


Desideratum

by catherineduchessofvineyard



Category: Luka Couffaine - Fandom, Lukanette - Fandom, Marinette Dupain-Cheng - Fandom, Miraculous Ladybug, miraculous ladybug and chat noir
Genre: F/M, a bit of domestic violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 23,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26714548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catherineduchessofvineyard/pseuds/catherineduchessofvineyard
Summary: How do you deal with everything you have tried so hard to forget? AU.
Relationships: Luka Couffaine - Relationship, Luka Couffaine/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Lukanette - Relationship
Comments: 27
Kudos: 38





	1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir.

**Author's Note:** Hi, I'm planning to write a multi-chaptered Lukanette. It's a little bit of an AU, seeing there's no Ladybug and Chat Noir here. I hope all of those who read this will enjoy it. Please leave a review. Thank you! I apologize it has been a while with law school and work at the same time, it’s hard to find free time. 

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Prologue**

Night had fallen over the city of Paris, its darkness all-consuming. Although it was summer, the temperatures were unusually low; a cold spell seemed to cover the town like a blanket. The sky was completely black, with no signs of bright stars or full moon. Clouds had gathered, clouds that promised rain. 

The house was dark and silent. There was nothing about it that resembled what it once used to be. No laughter could be heard ringing across its hallways, and the peaceful atmosphere was gone—had been gone for a long time, most would agree. 

There was only one room that was lit faintly. 

Two figures sat facing each other across the low coffee table. 

One, a woman, was sitting on the couch, legs crossed elegantly, one elbow on the armrest. Her gaze was turned downwards, a quiet sense of defeat looming over her like a black, ominous cloud. 

The other, a man, was standing before her, hands that were buried in his pockets clenched into fists. His posture was far from relaxed, and his eyes bore none of the calmness hers did—quite unusual for them to have that reversed, there was a fire burning in them, emotions raging beneath the surface. 

"I don't think…" she started, her voice soft, breaking the tense silence that had fallen over them, "…This is going to work anymore. I'm not sure it ever did." 

"You want it, then?" he asked, almost instantly, in response, hands shaking from the effort it took to keep his anger in check. 

She shook her head sadly. "We both do." 

"Fine," he spat, and with that last word, stormed out of the room. 

The sound of the front door slamming behind him echoed in the empty house. 

It was only then that the woman allowed herself to let her guard down, midnight blue hair falling over her shoulders, obscuring her face as tears spilled down her cheeks.

* * *

**A/N:** **A/N: Please leave a review! I'll update soon, I promise. Thank you all. ÷**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir.

**Author's Note:** Hello! Trying to update everyday before midterms come and get busy at work. Please bear with me and continue on reading. Thank you!

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 1**

"We need to discuss dividing—conjugal property." 

"No, we don't." The reply was firm and instantaneous. "I had nothing when I married him, and I don't want anything of his." 

The sharp-looking official sitting behind the desk eyed the woman unsurely.

"Are you sure?" A firm nod was what he received in response. "Yes." 

Her answer prevented the man beside her from arguing, from disagreeing, like he had initially felt the need to do. Where would she go? What would she do? Those questioned plagued his mind, but he pushed them away. Marinette was smart. She had gone to college, interned at one of the most prestigious fashion companies in Paris and she had always managed on her own. Her well-being was not his concern anymore, and she had made that clear. 

"Are you sure there is no way you can solve your problems?" the man pressed, one last attempt at making the couple change their minds—at making them look each other in the eye at least once that day. 

Not a word was said in response. 

Luka Couffaine, the man that had seemed so in love, so completely devoted to the woman beside him, simply looked away, one hand stroking his clenched jaw. 

His wife, such a contrasting character, a woman that had seemed ready to support him in everything, lowered her head, her hair and the hand that was resting over her forehead obscuring her face. 

The judge, however, had seen enough to last a lifetime. He knew there were tears slipping from her eyes now. 

"Can I have the papers?" Her voice nearly broke, but she managed to keep it even. Her hand discreetly wiped at her flawless cheeks as she tucked her hair behind her ear, before shifting forward in her seat, reaching for the pen he had offered her. 

Her hand trembled as she signed her name in the space destined for her. Placing the pen on top of the papers, she took a deep breath, and stood. 

"Thank you," she said, genuinely. 

Then she exited the room, and never once looked back, the sound of her heels clicking on the floor the only sign of her presence, along with the subtle scent of her perfume.

* * *

A quiet sigh escaped Marinette's lips as she dropped yet another blouse in the large, black suitcase spread out on the king-sized bed. 

Flopping down on the mattress, she rested her elbows on her knees and ran her hands through her long hair, her eyes closing on their own accord as the familiar prickle of tears started to make its presence known. Tilting her head, she gazed sideways at the neatly made bed. She gave in after a moment, lying down, her face buried in one of the pillows—his own. She almost choked on the lump that had formed in her throat as she breathed in. 

She loved him. That was the truth. She loved him with all her heart—the heart that was slowly breaking into a thousand little pieces right now. 

Tears stung her eyes as she inhaled his scent for the very last time. It was faint—it had been a long time since he last slept home—but it was there. 

It took every ounce of her willpower and determination to control her meltdown and stand up. 

Packing the last of her clothes, she zipped her suitcase closed, before finally straightening her posture. With her hands buried in the back pockets of her jeans, she looked around. The house had been her home for years; not only did it pain her to leave it behind, but it  _ disconcerted  _ her. She had nowhere else to go. 

Her expression hardened, she wiped the tears from her cheeks. She had nowhere else to go, but that would soon change. 

It was over. It had been over for a long time, longer than she dared to admit. 

Taking a deep breath, she reached for her suitcase, pulling it off the bed and setting it on the floor. Tomorrow, she will start over. There was nothing to worry about. She would make it, just like she had always done. 

About to exit the room, she stopped when she noticed something gleaming from the corner of her eye. With a sad smile, she abandoned her luggage near the door and slowly made her way towards the dresser. 

It was a picture of the two of them, taken on their wedding day. It was candid—she was smiling her most beautiful smile while he hugged her from behind, also grinning from ear to ear. 

It was a while since she last saw him smile like that, she reflected. Was he truly that unhappy with her? She shook her head. Whatever the answer to that question was, it didn't matter anymore. He could be happy now. She was gone. 

She sensed him rather than heard him, cerulean eyes set firmly on her figure, he stood in the doorway, leaning against the wall with one shoulder. 

"I…" he started, and almost immediately paused to clear his throat. "I didn't know you'd leave tonight." 

"What's the point in staying?" she asked. She believed she did a good job at keeping her tears from showing in her voice. 

"Where are you going?" 

She thought about lying, about pretending that she knew exactly what she was going to do with her life, now that he wasn't in it anymore. But then she realized she had no reason to do that. Luka's protective nature—something she had once loved—had been gone for a long time. He did not care anymore, even if she sometimes found that hard to believe. 

"I don't know." 

"Marinette…" he murmured. 

Marinette was sure she had imagined the hint of worry in his voice. 

She shrugged. "I'll figure it out." She frowned, and then swallowed. Her throat felt dry. "Do you mind… if I… take this?" 

Luka glanced at the frame she held in her hands. "I thought you didn't want anything," he said. "I supposed this isn't extremely important to you." 

There was a moment of hesitation from his part before he answered. "You can take it." 

She nodded, and made quick work of taking the photograph out of its frame. She cleared her throat as she folded it in half and turned to face him. 

"I didn't take anything else," she announced. "I figured you didn't need my clothes, but the jewelry is there… everything you or your family ever gave me. The laptop, the car keys, the credit card… they're all there. The keys to the house," she added, taking a few steps forward to hand him a set of keys that had previously been resting in her hands.

Luka took them, trying hard to ignore the way her hands shook, as well as the electric current that still traveled through him at the simple touch of her skin. 

"Oh," she said, her hands coming up to take off the diamond earrings he had given her so much time ago. "And these," she added, handing them back. 

"Marinette…" He shook his head, extending his hand back towards her. "I don't need these." 

Her smile was bitter, but her words were gentle. "Me neither. I never did. So, keep them. Maybe in the near future, you will find someone else to give them to." 

He stopped her before she could walk past him, looking down at her smaller figure. "But everything my family gave you… My mother—" 

"Everything they gave me was because I was your wife," she said. "But not anymore." 

"Everything they gave you was because they  _ loved  _ you," he insisted. 

The tiny pieces of her heart shattered even more when she realized that he—he had never loved her. He didn't even bother to deny it now. 

She shook her head. "They loved who I was. They didn't love  _ me _ ." Taking a deep breath, she stepped out of the bedroom. "Goodbye, Luka." She turned to look at him one last time. "I hope… I hope that you manage to find someone who will love you—the way you want to be loved. Because I never figured that one out." 

Saying that she didn't miss him would be a terrible lie. 

It was as though her entire body  _ craved  _ his presence, but that was something she was used to—something she had become used to long before they divorced. 

The knowledge that she had now lost him forever, let go of him willingly and knowingly was disturbing, like putting salt on a raw wound, but it also held a certain degree of comfort. 

At least there were no more fights, no more screams, no more hurtful accusations thrown carelessly at her. Her heart ached, true, but it was a dull ache, and the tears that left her eyes were now stray, random. No more breakdowns, no more emotional damage. No more living on the edge, wondering when he would be back home, and whether maybe, just maybe, they could enjoy the few hours of his time that he dedicated to her this time. 

Standing in front of the mirror now, she knew it had all been for the better. 

* * *

Almost a month had passed, and she wondered, deep inside, if he had even acknowledged her absence yet. 

Gazing down at the object lying innocently on the edge of the sink, she let out a soft sigh. "If this isn't it, I don't know what it could be," she murmured to herself. 

Of course, she, as a logical woman, knew it was not impossible. There had been a time, two months prior to their separation. The night was hazy, because they had had a fight before, and she always tried to bury memories of their fights deep inside her mind, where not even she could find them. But just because she didn't remember, didn't mean it hadn't happened. 

And when she looked back down at the sink, she knew she had the proof right in front of her eyes. For a moment, all she could do was stare. 

Then the tears came, and a shuddering breath left her lips. "And I, who wanted nothing to do with you anymore," she scoffed quietly, an ironic, fleeting smile on her features. "Of course you would follow me everywhere. Of course you would," she repeated, sniffling quietly. 

The moment she wiped her tears away, though, she realized that she had come to terms with this situation before she was even sure it existed.

A smile titled the corners of her lips upwards. 

"This is not going to be easy," she murmured. "Nothing with me ever is. But it's going to be alright, eventually. Because," she continued, her voice breaking, as tears spilled down her cheeks again, and her hand came to rest over her stomach, "You'll have me. And, no matter what, I promise… I will  _ never  _ abandon you." 

* * *

**A/N:** I’ll have some backstory soon, so stay tuned for more. A Luka who is not doting and loving to Marinette? More soon! Please review!


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir.

**Author's Note:** I will update everyday if I can. Hope you like this chapter!

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 2**

"Okay, here we are," Marinette announced as they came to stand in front of a large, steel door. 

"Is this it?" the child in her arms questioned, large blue eyes lighting up with excitement. His little arms were wrapped around her neck, his messy dark hair mingling with hers. 

"Yes," she replied, and shifted him in her embrace in order to reach for the key in her pocket. Pulling it out, she plunged it into the lock, the resulting click resounding through the empty hallway. Turning her head to look at him, she smiled. "Wanna close your eyes?" 

He blinked. "Why?" 

"I thought you liked surprises." 

"Oh, yeah!" he exclaimed, promptly squeezing his eyes shut, excitement written clearly on his face. 

Marinette smiled. "Okay," she said, and with a light shove, pushed the door open. Once again adjusting her grip on the boy in her arms, she prompted him to open his eyes by pressing her cheek against his. "What do you think?" 

The apartment was small, smaller than the one they had left back in the United States, but it was fitting—exactly what they needed. There were hardwood floors, and a light almond color on the walls. A large pile of cardboard boxes sat in the middle of the hallway, right behind the small, matching leather couch. A wooden coffee table sat in front of that, and against the wall, a television set. 

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, taking in the large, floor to ceiling windows that wrapped around the external wall of the apartment. "You can see everything from here!" 

"Mhmm," she agreed, setting him down carefully. "Go explore," she encouraged, running a hand through his thick hair. 

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, he stormed out of her sight, leaving her to shake her head at his eagerness. 

Heaving a quiet sigh, she slowly made her way towards the table situated in a corner, near the door, the sound of her heels hitting the hardwood floors echoing in the empty apartment. The real estate agent had let her know that a letter had arrived for her the other day, so she picked up the envelope in question. 

"Mom, we've got stairs, too!" Cadence exclaimed. 

Marinette smiled. "Yes, we do," she agreed. She had known he would be particularly excited about that. 

The paper made a crinkling sound as she ripped the envelope open and unfolded its contents, her eyes quickly scanning the writing. It was a letter from her company—it seemed like the apartment had become her official residence sooner than she had expected. 

She would start work the following week. Until then, she had more than enough time to accommodate. 

"This is so cool!" she heard Cadence exclaim, before little footsteps thundered down the stairs, and he joined her in the hallway.

She turned her head to look at him. 

"We've got so much room! We could get a dog!" 

Setting the letter down, she approached him, an amused smile playing on her lips. "Cadence, you  _ know  _ we are not getting a dog." 

Cadence sighed. "Well," he said, "I had to try." 

"Yes, I can see you are very perseverant." 

"I thought that was a good thing." 

"It is," she answered. "Now, have you seen our bags anywhere?" 

"Yeah! They're right behind these boxes!" 

"Good," she said, starting to walk in the pointed direction. "We need to unpack basic necessities. I suppose you won't get hungry again tonight." 

"No." 

"Okay, then." She pulled a large suitcase over and took a seat on the couch. "We need bedspreads. We also need your stuffed dog, so maybe you can remember in which box you put him." 

Cadence groaned. "Mom, they're all the same." 

"Yes," she agreed. "But you're a smart child. I'll unpack everything else you may need while you search for him." "Okay." He shuffled over to where the boxes lay, frowning as he studied them. 

"Do you need help?" she questioned. 

"I can't reach it!" he whined. He knew better than to attempt to grab it by himself. His mother went into hysterics whenever he tried to climb something other than stairs. 

Marinette rolled her eyes fondly as she stood up to tend to him. "That one?" she asked, reaching for the highest box. "I think," he answered. 

"I knew you'd find him," she said, handing the box to him. "We'll unpack everything else tomorrow. It will probably take us the entire day, but rather than spend the whole week doing this…" 

Cadence, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, the now opened box in his lap, looked up at her. "But I thought we would go explore the city!" 

His mother turned to regard him with a soft look in her eyes. "You liked what you saw during the drive here, didn't you?" 

"Yeah!" 

"And if I promise we'll take a walk tomorrow evening? Is that okay?" she asked, wanting to please him. Cadence nodded, a grin she remembered all too well spreading on his features. 

Marinette swallowed an inexistent lump in her throat as she turned her attention back to the suitcase lying on the floor before her, clothes spilling out. 

Could she really do this? Or had she simply been deluding herself?" 

Two hours later, Cadence was fast asleep in his new bed, and Marinette was free to do as she wished for the rest of the night. 

As the door to his room closed soundlessly behind her, she gave out a small, tired sigh, rolling her shoulders as she began to walk towards her own bedroom. Cadence was not a naughty child—had never been that—but between the move, her new job, and the stress of what could come, she had drained herself of every last bit of energy. She could only hope that this week would be enough of a vacation for her to feel ready to start work. It had been a long time since she had last felt so tired. Probably back when Cadence was born. 

The years had gone by so quickly… It seemed like yesterday when she was holding her baby into her arms, marveling at how small and fragile he was, tears of sadness and happiness sliding down her face. But she wasn't complaining, because she had so many great memories. His first smile, his first steps, his first laugh; the first day of school, the first vacation together; the first morning he jumped on her bed to wake her up. She had been there to witness all of them, and for that, she was grateful. 

The smile that had slowly spread on her face disappeared as another, completely different thought crossed her mind. She had been there, all right. But no one had stood by her side. 

With a weary sigh, she moved across the carpeted floor of her room to stand in front of the large window. Her reflection stared back at her. She was dressed in a silky, dark-blue shirt that tied in the middle with a thin string, tight, black pants, and white sneakers. Her long hair was pulled back from her face with a stylish braid, and she was wearing make-up—little, but she was. 

Time had changed her—there was no denying that. Being  _ a mother  _ had changed her. And now that it was time to face up to the past… she had no idea where to begin or what to do with herself. 

Resting her head against the cool glass, she closed her eyes. 

Paris spread out below her, a mass of twinkling lights and nighttime activities. 

Was he out there somewhere? She thought it was silly of her to ask herself that question. After all, she barely saw him when they were husband and wife and lived in the same house. What were the chances of bumping into him in a large metropolis such as Paris? She lived on the other end of the town—she had made sure of that. These were places that he would never frequent. 

A tear trickled down her cheek, unnoticed. 

A voice in her head screamed. Six years had passed. And perhaps… he had found a woman who had managed to make him settle down. 

* * *

**A/N:** Seriously though, all the backstories, queries regarding the life of Marinette and Luka before the divorced will be in the next chapters as the story progresses. I am trying to post this as fast as I could so I hope I won’t leave any stone unturned. Please review! 


	4. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** I was too lazy to open my laptop yesterday that I didn't updated :D

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 3**

"Cadence," she called as she descended down the stairs, the sound of her steps clicking against the hardwood floors alerting him of her approaching presence long before her voice did. When she arrived at the foot of the stairs, she saw him nestled on the couch, with one of her large, fashion related books on his lap.

She smiled. "What are you doing?" she questioned, amused, as she walked towards him. He looked up at her with a sheepish grin on his face.

'"Looking at the pictures," he answered.

Marinette laughed. "I imagined," she said.

"Are you hungry?"

He nodded.

"How does take-out sound?" she suggested.

Cadence grinned, throwing her a knowing look, and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, shush you, I'm just too tired to cook" she admonished, already moving to the kitchen area. "What would you like?" she asked.

She expected a firm, excited answer. What she received, however, was an uncertain voice calling out for her. "Mom… Who is this?"

There was a frown on her features as she turned around to face him. "Hmm? What are you talking about?" she asked, confused.

In response, Cadence raised an old, rumpled photograph into the air, his cerulean eyes watching her with innocent curiosity.

Her eyes softened at the sight of him, and a quiet sigh escaped her lips as she slowly, almost hesitantly, started to make her way towards him. Taking a seat on the couch, she pulled the picture out of his grasp and moved the heavy book onto the table, beckoning him to approach her.

"Come here," she said, accommodating him on her lap. "I suppose you already realized that's me. And that man… that man is your father."

Marinette had always known that hiding the truth from him was selfish, but she had also known that labeling him as different from the very beginning would hurt him even more. She resolved that she would tell him everything the moment he asked. So far, he had never once inquired about his father, and she would have been content with postponing this discussion until the day that he did.

It seemed like fate had other plans, though.

His brows furrowed. "I have a father?"

She kissed his temple affectionately. "Everybody has a father, silly."

"But I never saw him."

"I know you never did," she murmured softly in response.

She knew better than to believe he was upset. He was simply confused. She had never lied to him, but there were certain aspects of their lives that had never been treated, and because of that, he must find the way secrets were now coming up to light, abruptly and calloused.

"You were his wife?" he inquired curiously, his small hand hovering over the photograph now held in her hands. Marinette swallowed back her tears. "Yes."

His frown deepened. "Did he die?"

"No, sweetie," she said, shaking her head.

"You fought," he guessed.

There was a moment of silence before she answered, "In a way, yes." Her arms tightened around him, and her chin came to rest on top of his head. "But that doesn't matter anymore. I don't want you to think that your father forgot about you, because he never knew you existed, in the first place. But now we're back here, back in Paris, back where he lives… and if you want, I can find him for you."

Luka's reaction didn't matter. The only one who mattered was Cadence. And she would rather have her heart stomped on a million times than have her child miss his father.

Cadence, however, continued to frown. "Did he hurt you?"

"He did, but… I guess the most accurate way to put it is that… we both hurt each other. We just… didn't fit."

"So, why did you marry?"

"That's a longer story, sweetie," she answered evasively.

"Okay," he said, and before she could respond, he returned to his place on the couch, the large book back in his lap.

She watched him intently as she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "You didn't answer my question," she reminded him softly.

Cadence looked up from his book. "Do _you_ want to see him again?" he challenged.

She carefully avoided the answer. Cadence was only six years old, but he was incredibly protective of her. Whether that was because he had picked up on the way she acted around him, or because he was aware of the fact that he only had her was a debatable issue.

"It doesn't matter what I want. He's not _my_ father."

"But if you don't want to see him again, how are you going to search for him? And how is he going to meet me?"

"Honey, those are details that we will figure out as we go," she soothed.

He contemplated the matter in silence for a mere five seconds, before he reached a conclusion. "I don't want to see him."

"Cadence…" Unmistakable relief flooded her eyes upon hearing his answer, but it was mixed with doubt. Without realizing, sometime during the past month, she had already come to terms with the fact that she would see him again, that he would find out, and that his reaction might not be entirely positive.

The truth was, Cadence never ceased to surprise her.

Swallowing, she tried again. "If you're worried about me, don't be. I've lived with this man for years. Maybe things didn't work out between us, but I'm sure you would love him. He really is a wonderful man, we just-didn't fit together. Cadence, you are so much like him. I never told you this but-your name is after something that relates to him. You may not feel his absence now, but maybe in a few years, you will."

"I won't," he answered, stubbornly holding his ground.

With a sigh, she stood from her seat and kneeled down in front of him. "Sweetie," she whispered, brushing unruly strands of blond hair away from his face, "There are many children in this world who would give anything to have a father like yours. Don't throw this chance away, and don't do it to take care of me. _I_ am the mother. _I_ am supposed to take care of _you_."

Cadence rolled his eyes, already annoyed. "I don't want to meet him, Mom."

"Alright," she consented, standing up. "But if you ever change your mind, all you have to do is tell me."

* * *

 **A/N:** Maybe next chapter will have Luka in it? What do you think? Please leave a review! Thank you!


	5. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir.

**Author's Note:** Here we go to Chapter 4! I hope you all like it.

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 4**

"He is a very well-mannered child," the principal remarked as he sat across from Marinette and her young son.

Marinette smiled, brushing a rebel lock of hair away from Cadence's forehead. The boy had climbed onto her lap the moment they had entered the office, but that hardly bothered her.

"I know," she said. "So, I trust there won't be any problems?"

"Of course not," the man answered with a smile of his own. "Cadence is now officially enrolled in our school."

"Good. Then, we shall get going," she said, prompting Cadence to allow her to stand up. He slid smoothly off her lap and took her offered hand. "You have my number. Should something happen—"

"That won't be the case, I assure you," he said.

Marinette nodded. "I trust that it won't."

A good-bye later, and they were strolling through the empty corridors, heading towards the exit of the building.

"You know, it's cool how they try to rub up on you just because they see you dressed like you are and climbing out of a car like that," Cadence remarked when he was finally unable to hold back anymore.

She bit back a laugh. "You are very perceptive," she told him. "However, I do believe that they were telling the truth. About you being a well-mannered child, that is."

Cadence rolled his eyes. "Riiight. I hate my teacher," he declared.

The warm, early-summer air washed over them as they opened the door and climbed down the steps at the entrance. Marinette frowned, amused, the fresh breeze that enveloped the city playing with her long hair. "Why?" she asked. He shrugged. "I don't like her. I have a feeling she doesn't like me much, either."

Marinette laughed. "Well—"

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

She turned around at the sound of her name, only to be met by a tall man. He had dark hair and striking green eyes, which had widened almost imperceptibly at the sight of her—dressed in a summer dress that hugged her curves all in the right places. He himself was wearing a formal business suit.

"Yes," she said. "That's me."

Cadence looked up suspiciously from where he had stopped by her side.

"I am Alexandre Marceau," the mysterious man introduced himself, holding out his hand.

"Oh," Marinette said, realization dawning on her as she accepted the offer.

"I apologize if I seem intrusive, but I like to meet my employees before starting work with them. And since I was not present at the company today…"

"You ended up here," she concluded, nodding. "How?"

"My secretary let me in on the fact that you have a child," he admitted. "Which led me here, this is the nearest school from the office you see."

"Oh, okay. You shouldn't have though. Cadence," she said, pushing him before her, "Say hi."

The child waved. "Hi!"

Marinette rolled her eyes. Sometimes, she thought he did everything in his power to rile her up, simply because he thought it was amusing.

Alexandre smiled down at him. "Hi."

"Well, he needs to eat," she cut in, clearly unwilling to waste any of the time she could spend with her child, "So we need to go. It was nice to meet you."

"You, too, Ms. Dupain-Cheng. I will see you at the office?"

"Of course," she replied, and offered him a small, polite smile, before steering Cadence forwards, towards the car.

"Totally hitting on you," he muttered as he jumped into the vehicle.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Thank you, Captain Obvious," she answered fondly, before firmly closing the door behind him.

Walking round the car to reach the driver's side, she gracefully slipped in, taking the time to slide the key in the ignition before putting on her seatbelt.

"How was school?" she asked once she had pulled out of the parking lot and was speeding towards their new apartment.

"Boring," Cadence answered.

One glance in the rearview mirror presented her with the image of him slouched down in his seat, hair tousled and lips pouting.

"Any new friends?" she prompted, hiding a smile at his lack of enthusiasm.

He gave a loud sigh. "Yeah."

Cadence was a very open and very friendly child, like her-very much like her, but there are times when he observed and remained on the sidelines, reminded her of _him_. Marinette could already predict that he was going to be a heartthrob, that popular boy every girl would want. He was much like Luka in that regard—charming, calm, and good-natured.

Sometimes, it pained her to look at him. But then he would say something so incredibly logical, or solve a situation in such a calculating manner, that it made her chest swell with pride.

Because this was her child—and the best thing that had ever happened to her.

* * *

"I got a dinner invitation for tonight," Marinette stated one evening, almost a month later, as she leaned with her hands against the back of the couch.

Cadence scoffed from where he was seated, his attention focused on a video game. "Sure you did. From Alexandre."

She smirked, poking his side. "I thought you liked him."

"Yeah," he admitted, shrugging. "Technically. But he's really just trying to distract your attention from me." His mother raised an amused eyebrow. "By paying attention to you."

"Yeah. Which makes you pay attention to how he pays attention to me. Therefore, to him." Marinette laughed.

"In any case," she continued, "It's a business dinner. With a client. And I have to be there." "You wouldn't have accepted it otherwise," he agreed.

"Yes." She nodded, and her eyes softened as she watched him. "I'll look for a sitter that could look after you.

"Okay, sure" he answered.

"Are you sure?" she pressed. "If you want—"

"Mom," he groaned, "It's Friday. What could possibly happen?"

"It can happen that you want to watch a movie with me, and…" Leaning over the back of the couch, she grabbed his torso and started to tickle him.

Cadence rolled over, laughing. "Mom!" he squealed, squirming away.

There was a grin on her face as she stopped and bent down to kiss his cheek. "I'll go get ready."

Only the sound of her steps distracted him from his game enough for him to press pause. A plate of food was set before him on the coffee table, but his eyes followed a loose dark curl up to the face of its owner as she straightened. His mouth nearly dropped open.

His mother was beautiful all the time and no matter what she put on, but when she actually tried… that was a completely different story.

She was wearing a blue, satin dress, sleeveless with pencil cut skirt to her knees; her feet were clad in her black sandals. Her make-up was more prominent, her features more defined; her lips were pink, and her long, shiny hair was curled.

Cadence was well-aware of the fact that his mother was gorgeous. He had seen enough women, and he knew how to make a difference. But sometimes, she amazed even him.

Placing her hands on her hips, she looked down at him with an amused glint in her blueberry-colored eyes.

Cadence blinked. "You look pretty," he told her.

She rolled her eyes. "Cadence, I would have brought you dinner in here, anyway."

He grinned, his head tilted back as he looked up at her. "Because you love me?"

"Because I know you would have come back here with it after I left," she retorted.

Cadence's grin grew even wider. "Well, you look pretty, anyway."

Marinette indulged a small smile. "Thank you," she said, and then heaved a sigh. "I have to go. Be careful. Finish you dinner, don't open the door to anybody, and don't make a mess. You can watch TV, but don't stay up late. And no horror movies! And please, don't stress out your sitter." she reminded him.

Cadence rolled his eyes.

"Remember that the only reason I'm leaving you is because I trust you—and you really want to keep that trust, alright?"

"Yes, Mom."

"Good. Love you," she said, bending down to kiss his forehead. "Bye, baby."

Night had fallen when Marinette stepped out of the restaurant that evening, her colleague by her side.

* * *

"Why are you always running away?" he asked, out of the blue, as they slowly made their way in the direction where her car was parked.

Marinette turned to look at him, confused and mildly curious. "I'm not running away." She sounded almost amused.

"You're _pulling_ away, then." He came to a stop, forcing her to do the same. Marinette smoothed down her wind-blown hair as she gazed up at him.

"You can't have not noticed that I feel for you."

She smiled, huffed an amused breath, and looked down for a moment. Then her head rose and her eyes met his again.

Somehow, she had been expecting this moment for an entire month.

"You are very subtle, I'll give you that. But I did notice. Cadence did, too."

Alexandre smiled. "So… What is the problem?"

"The problem is… You are a great man. I know that. But I am not the woman for you."

"Who are you to decide that?" he teased.

She smiled, shaking her head.

"Look, I know you haven't been the happiest person in love," he started. "I can only guess. And I know that you feel nothing for me now. But I've met Cadence, and you've seen how much I care about him. He needs a father."

"He _has_ a father," she replied, so confidently and resolutely that it almost deterred him.

"Then you need a man," he insisted.

"I don't need anyone."

He opened his mouth to speak at that, but she cut him off, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"Look, I know what you're trying to tell me. I know how it feels like to have a man by your side. That feeling of protection can't quite compare to anything else. But I have learned to live without it." She shrugged her shoulders slowly. "And I think it's better that way."

"All I'm asking for is a chance." He took a step forward, in her direction, but kept his hands in his pockets.

Marinette shook her head. "Alexandre, I am a mother. I have a child. And he is everything to me. You know that."

"Exactly! Do this for him—for the chance at a happy family."

"It's not that easy to put myself out there again, Alexandre. The way you're making it sound is great. But Cadence and I have never needed anybody. Maybe in the future he will want a father… but then again, he _has_ him." She sighed, glancing down at her feet for a moment. "There is one thing that many people just don't seem to understand: I can't sacrifice myself for my child. I can't do things thinking about him only. We're a family—and it's just the two of us. I can't be unhappy, because I am all he has. And I am going to focus on him—on what he wants, not on what I think it's best for him. I trust his judgment."

Offering him a small smile, she parted with a soft-spoken 'goodnight'. The sound of her heels clicking on the pavement echoed in the almost deserted parking lot.

And as she walked the remaining distance to her car, she never once looked back.

* * *

**A/N:** At first, I was thinking of using an existing character in the cartoon, then I thought, "Ehh-maybe not." Please leave a review! Thank you!


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** This chapter will have a little bit of an explanation and I hope you guys like it.

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 5**

Luka Couffaine had taken a wrong turn. Instead of turning right on the exit on the highway, he turned left—leaving him with an entire metropolis to cross in order to arrive home.

In retrospect, his entire life could be described as a series of wrong turns, so perhaps he should be used to it by now.

At least traffic was not as terrible at this hour of the day as it usually was. Of all the cities he had traveled to, Paris seemed to be the worst in that aspect. Or maybe it was just him and his desire to get from one end of the city to the other without really looking around and having the chance to see much.

It was ridiculous how many memories he had in this part of the world—and how the majority of them were centered on a certain woman.

He missed her. He missed her so much it was crazy. Every time he closed his eyes, she was there. It was even more terrible when he was in town. And the worst part of it all was that he could hardly remember when it was that their relationship suffered so much damage, what the last straw was—the word that made her put an end to everything they stood for.

They were fighting more than usual, he knew. She was quietly resentful because he was always gone. Her parents had an untimely death on their flight to China to celebrate their 20th wedding anniversary. As he was her boyfriend at that time and knew that they both loved each other very much, his family took her in. Not long after that, they got married so young, she just turned 18 but at that point in their lives it was all that made sense for her-for them. She somewhat lost her spirit and light when her parents perished, it took him a long time before she came out of the shell she made to cocoon herself. However, he thought that their relationship went on a downward spiral when he gained fame not just-apparently, Jagged Stone's first born child, but also because of his undeniably good musical talent. He was always gone for days on end. At one point, yelling became their communication and it continued. When they said stress and growing up changes people, he didn't think it would turn him into a monster.

That had been their norm. She would scream, and he would yell. He would say 'no', and she would push. She would slam a door, and he would jump on the first plane that left the country.

When they reunited, their tempers cooled down, the anger dissipated from their system, the tension remained, but they would never, ever talk about it. That was probably their worst mistake—not talking. It could have saved their marriage, their relationship. Or at least, it would have helped him remember why it had fallen apart, in the first place. They persevered, always. He thought there would always be Luka and Marinette. He knew he had hurt her. With Marinette, this type of thing had never been easy to notice after her parents died, but nothing gave her away more than the way her hand had shaken when she signed the divorce papers, or the tears in her eyes when she handed him back the earrings he had given them on their only happy anniversary, so many years ago.

He had never heard from her again, their friends never heard from her even and had it not been for the fact that his own heart had shattered at the sight of her walking out that door, he would have probably had the strength to run after her and beg her to come back. But he had been too blind at that time, too eager to put an end to the fights, the stress, the continuous emotional struggle; his feelings conflicted, he had made the worst mistake of his life—he had let her leave.

 _Then why didn't you look for her?_ a voice in his head mocked. _Why didn't you search the Earth to find her? You should have gone crawling to her doorstep and apologized, because all this was your fault, in the first place._

Those thoughts plagued his mind constantly, making up all of his nightmares.

She must be happy now. That was his explanation. That was the reason why he had not run after her. He could have found her. He could have apologized. But he had chosen not to, because the last thing he wanted—the last thing he had ever wanted—was to make her suffer.

People wondered how two people so sync, so open and so loving to each other fell apart. It felt like those years had been a blur-but he can remember all the time he had been horrible to her. Never letting her speak, always yelling at her, always blaming her, even when he didn't say it outright, for everything that was happening.

It pained him so much, remembering it that the cheerful Marinette became a recluse to their relationship.

He had never quite realized when their roles changed.

And for that, he would never forgive himself.

Cadence tried hard to hold back his grin when he saw the familiar little red car pull up in front of the school. He looked down to hide the inevitable, upward tilt to his lips, swinging his legs back and forth on the bench he was currently sitting on.

* * *

"Cadence," his mother greeted, bending down to kiss his cheek as she cupped his face within her hands. "Sorry for being late. I—"

"Sorry? Is that all you can say to me?" he demanded, crossing his arms over his chest.

She shot him a bland look. "You know, that would have worked better if you weren't trying to hold back laughter—and failing. Just saying."

Cadence laughed, grinning up at her. "Fine," he gave in, hopping off the bench and taking her hand. "What took you so long, anyway?"

"I was detained at work. Complications—stuff you don't care about," she explained as they started to make their way towards the car.

True to the conclusion she had reached, the boy couldn't be less interested. "Can I watch a movie?"

Marinette rolled her eyes as she opened the door for him. "Of course you can watch a movie after you do your homework." She smiled meaningfully at him and heard his groan as she shut the door behind him.

Cadence was an excellent student—incredibly smart and ambitious; but he was also incredibly laid-back. She couldn't count the number of times his teachers had complained that his attention during classes was quite far. Always humming different melodies and tunes under his breath. Forgetting that Maths doesn't include tapping on the desk different beats. She learned not to question it, she knew deep down, her son is very much like his father.

As long as Cadence learned what he needed to learn, how he did it didn't matter.

As long as Cadence was happy, nothing else did.

Luka heaved a sigh as he came to a stop in front of a traffic light; leaning back in his seat, he raised his hand to rub his tired eyes. He couldn't even remember how long it had been since he'd last gotten a decent wink of sleep. He wondered why he had chosen to come home, of all the places, if that was the case, because he certainly wouldn't be resting here. The house was full of memories of her and nestling his head into her pillow wouldn't help him with his cause. And if he did manage to fall asleep, then he would dream of her—and the morning would be daunting.

But he couldn't stop himself. He needed to be here. He came here at least once a month, because he _needed_ this. As painful as it was, this place was the only connection he had with her.

Opening his eyes, he ran a hand over his forehead, pushing his messy hair back. He glanced up at the traffic light, which was still red.

People continued to cross the street—couples and lovers and children. He cracked a small smile as he watched a young teenager—perhaps ten or eleven years old—running to make it to the other side before the light changed. He used to be like that, he remembered. They used to be like that. Young, happy, without a care in the world.

It was around that age that he met her. He fell in love with her. And he started to build his future around her. He had wanted to see her face beside him every time he woke up in the morning. He had wanted a family with her. He had never imagined all of those things would remain simply dreams.

Heaving yet another sigh, he set his hand back on the steering wheel and tried to force his mind to focus on getting him home safely. Sleep deprivation and thoughts of her were not a good combination, he knew that from experience.

It was because of that that when he saw the first flash of a very familiar midnight blue hair, he thought he was dreaming. His head snapped up, his eyes searching the scenery relentlessly despite the fact that everything in him told him to stop. They found what they were looking for on the side of the road, across the intersection. A woman wearing a simple white oxford shirt and red pencil cut skirt paired with black heeled pumps, walked around a car to slip in through the driver's side. The shade midnight blue was so much like hers, albeit a common one, but that shine was something so akin to her that his hands twitched on the steering wheel, and his mouth opened to speak—but no sound came out.

Suddenly, a torrent of horns began to blare from behind him, snapping him back to reality. The light had turned green. Hands shaking, he pressed the accelerator and crossed the intersection, only to come to a stop in the same parking space the mysterious red car had left.

His hand was reaching for his phone on the passenger's seat before his mind could even register what he was doing; long before it even realized, his heart had reached a conclusion.

He would search for her. He would use all of his relations to find her. If there was a Marinette Dupain-Cheng in Paris at that moment, he was going to know.

* * *

 **A/N:** Oooh! Will he find her? Again, please remember this is an alternate universe before I get roasted for killing her parents, however criticism or not, I welcome it. Thank you! Please leave a review!


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** Hope you all like this one. Please don't forget to leave a review. In lieu of parts of this chapter, there will be a bit of domestic violence. I apologize beforehand if it triggers or offend someone. 

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 6**

On Monday, Luka received a phone-call. It took him three days to gather his courage and seek out the address he had been given, but there he was, standing on her doorstep.

There were no words to describe the turmoil inside of him when he heard that yes, she was there, that she had been so close to him for God knew how long. It was a mixture that had surprised him as much as the news itself, that had nearly torn him apart for the nights to come.

But he had survived this, survived everything just to see her again. From what he had heard, she was not married, nor was she living with another man. His connection had asked whether he wanted to dig deeper in her life, but that was all Luka had needed to know—that she was alone, that the possibility for him to apologize was still standing.

He steeled himself with a deep breath before he knocked, head down, forearms resting on either side of the doorway. He didn't know what to expect, so he resumed clearing his mind and hoping for the best.

Heels clicked on the floor on the other side of the door, and his heart started beating faster.

Then the door opened, and it stopped beating altogether. His breath caught in his throat, and every cell in his body stopped functioning.

She was even more beautiful than he remembered. She was dressed simply, in a pair of black pants and a loose fitted white top, with fluffy slippers on her feet. Her skin was flawless, with only a hint of sun-kissed color, and she was wearing make-up—enough to bring out the color of her eyes and to add a red tint to her full lips. Her hair was as midnight dark as he remembered—full, shiny, and curling at its ends.

She had frozen at the sight of him. Her eyes were wide—wide with shock, with confusion, and to his surprise, fright— and if she was breathing, he couldn't tell.

"Marinette…"

Her name was a mere whisper between them.

In a daze almost, his hand reached out towards her. He needed to touch her, to feel her, to make sure she was real— not just another torturous dream. But she flinched and stepped back, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

He opened his mouth to speak, but someone else beat him to that.

"Mom!" a young voice, the voice of a child rang down the hallway.

Luka's eyes widened. It was his turn to step back as though he had been slapped.

Marinette simply closed her eyes. "Sweetheart, not right now," she answered in a breathy, raspy voice. Luka looked at her in shock.

"Mom?" he echoed incredulously.

The breath seemed to leave her completely then.

Leaving the door open, she turned around and took a few steps forward, only to stop when Luka grabbed her arm and forced her to face him in a brusque movement. Her hair whipped around her face as she turned, her eyes wide with fright as she looked up at him.

"What—"

"Mom!" the voice called again, while little footsteps thundered down the stairs.

"Go back to bed!" she yelled back, the tinge of desperation in her voice resounding clearly in the tense atmosphere. "I'm serious!"

"But I'm hungry!" he complained.

"I'll be right there!" she snapped.

There was silence after her statement. The reality that Luka had been trying to avoid was now becoming clearer by the second.

Hesitantly, her gaze rose to meet him.

"Marinette, don't tell me…"

She trembled in his hold, and attempted to back away, but she had barely managed to take a few steps back before he grabbed her forearms and once again pulled her back to him.

"Speak to me," he commanded.

In response, she avoided his gaze and remained quiet. But in the end, her silence was as good of an answer as any.

Reality came crashing down on him before he had the chance to take in another breath. He immediately let go of her, and she stumbled back, swallowing heavily.

There was an unusual feeling of fear churning in her stomach as she watched him carefully, as though expecting him to snap at any time.

"No, no…" he said, huffing an amused, yet at the same time incredulous, breath. His eyes rose to meet hers, and there was a smile—a sad, hopeful smile—on his lips. "I got this wrong. You wouldn't do this to me. You aren't _capable_ of that."

"Yes, I did," she said. How in the world she managed the strength to keep her voice steady was beyond her. "And I am."

For a moment, he was distracted by the sound of her voice.

But then he wasn't. "Are you trying to tell me that—"

"Yes."

The shock numbed his movements as he slowly turned around to look upstairs. In a second, Marinette was in front of him, standing protectively between him and the staircase.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

"I didn't want anything to do with you, and you didn't want anything to do with me. That's why I shut up. Our marriage was messed up—and over. And I wasn't going to throw a child in that environment." It was a speech she had repeated all too many times.

"Because of you, I've lost six years of my child's life, Marinette!"

"I know that. Trust me, I do. I—"

"Were you _never_ going to tell me?"

"I _was_ going to tell you!" she snapped. "I'm not the selfish bitch you think I am. But this wasn't just about the two of us anymore. It was about Cadence. I never hid anything from him. I never spoke badly of you, like you probably think I did. When we got here, I asked him… I asked him if he wanted to meet you—because it was _him_ who mattered. His answer was 'no'. And that is _not_ my fault."

Luka scoffed. "Of course it was a 'no'! I'm a stranger to him!"

"Well, change that!"

He reeled back, surprised at how accepting she was being towards this entire situation. It was as though she had been waiting— _yearning_ —for this to happen; as though it was what she had always wanted, but never knew how to make it reality.

"How?" he whispered.

"Be with him," she answered, gazing deep into his eyes. "You're his father. Spend time with him, get to know him…"

Their voices lowered as the argument died down. All that was left now were two broken people, staring at each other, begging each other with their eyes to understand, to forgive—to do the right thing this time.

Luka shook his head. "You're just as confusing as always."

"Cadence may not _need_ you, but he deserves to have a father figure in his life. I can't offer him that. And for God's sake, I'm not going to keep you away from your own child! It's not like you raped me! With you… I spent the most beautiful moments with you. Cadence is… he is the proof that we once lo— _cared about_ each other." She shook her head, tears in her eyes. "I don't want you to stay away from him."

He looked at her incredulously, as though he was unable to believe what he was hearing, unable to grasp what she was telling him, unable to absorb the information he had been presented with. She had always known this would end up badly, that she would ruin what was left of them—the reminiscence of a quiet love—by doing this. But standing in front of him now, unable to tell what he was thinking, what he was feeling, what he probably considered her to be, was more painful and disconcerting than anything she could have ever imagined.

Her eyes softening, she took a step forward and reached out for him. "Luka, I—" She tried to touch him, but he jerked away.

"Stop," he commanded, putting his hands up. "Just—don't say anything. You've done enough." He turned around then and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

Marinette swallowed. A shuddering breath left her lips, and every muscle in her body seemed to fail her as she sunk down on the back of the couch, suddenly lightheaded.

It took everything of her to push back her tears and control her meltdown, but she managed. Because Cadence was upstairs, waiting for an explanation.

* * *

 **A/N:** Seriously, Luka…? Haha Please review! Thank you!


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** ...because if I was, I would go more for a healthier relationship, ergo, Lukanette.

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 7**

The following morning was gloomy—matching the mood in their house. The sky was covered with clouds that promised rain; the wind had picked up overnight, and the temperatures had dropped enough to force people into long-sleeved blouses and cardigans.

Cadence observed his mother carefully from where he sat in the backseat of the car. She was perfectly put together, like she usually was, but Cadence knew her—he knew how to recognize the tension in her body. She was still distraught, and he had noticed that from the very first moment he saw her that day.

"Mom?" he ventured when they were a few blocks away from his school. Curiosity—and not only that, but also worry —would not allow him to let her leave without another conversation.

"Hmm?" she acknowledged, meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror for a brief moment, before looking back at the road ahead.

"What was that last night?" he asked.

Marinette sighed. "I already told you, sweetie."

"You had a fight," he said, slowly, as though wanting to make sure he understood, "With my dad." His mother swallowed heavily before she answered him. "Yes."

He remained silent for a moment, before he spoke again, "Mom?" He waited until she had glanced at him once again before he continued, "He's not gonna separate us, right?"

"What?" she asked, shocked. "Sweetie, of course not. Where did you get that idea from?" "He can do that," he said, confident.

"No!" Marinette parked in front of the school in one swift maneuver, before she unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face him. "Cadence, you're watching too many movies again. Nothing—and no one—is taking you away from me."

There was a quiet desperation in her eyes, mixed with fierce protectiveness, but the confidence there made him believe her. Because when his mother made a promise, she respected it. And he knew then—she would do _anything_ to keep him by her side.

"Come on," she murmured with a soft sigh, turning around to get out of the car.

Cadence waited until she opened the door for him to jump out. He didn't miss the few extra seconds it took her to reach his side, seconds she must have spent on getting her bearings. This was affecting her more than she let on, he could see that clearly.

"Okay," she sighed as she crouched down in front of him, holding onto his hands. "I will be here—Is that your teacher?" She frowned at something behind him.

Cadence turned briefly, before facing her again. "Yeah," he said.

"She looks bad today."

"She _always_ looks bad."

Marinette rolled her eyes. "She looks sick."

"She _is_ sick."

She laughed lightly. "How about you lie low today? Not bother her too much?"

"Too much," he agreed.

She smiled, tapping his nose with the tip of her finger. "Alright. Be careful. Be nice. Pay attention to your classes. And I'll be here when you finish. Okay?" Cadence nodded, and closed his eyes when she reached up to brush a lock of blond hair away from his face. "Don't worry. I'll take care of everything."

"You always do," he answered, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

Marinette's smile grew wider. "Go," she said, kissing his forehead. "Love you."

He never answered, and she watched him leave with a soft look in her eyes. Cadence became upset every time she declined his involvement in a problem, even when he knew there was nothing he could do to help. He felt patronized, he had claimed once, and although Marinette knew Cadence was capable of understanding most things children his age couldn't, she refused to let him become involved, no matter the nature of the issue. He was her child and she was his mother; her duty was to protect him, not to allow him to shoulder the burdens they encountered together.

"Hey," a familiar voice said, bringing her back from her thoughts.

She looked up. "Hey," she greeted back. Her smile was long gone as she stood up, smoothing down the creases in her skirt. "What are you doing here?"

"I figured I would find you here." He sighed, burying his hands into his pockets, as his eyes pierced through her. "We need to talk."

* * *

It was almost incredible how much she had changed, yet at the same time, remained the same. She was gorgeous, even more so than the last time he had seen her—something he had deemed impossible in the hours to come. But she was cold, and seemed a million miles away.

During the entire walk to the coffee shop, her eyes had met his _once_. She refused to look at him when she spoke, and although that was something he had grown used to in the last period of their marriage, her attitude unnerved him now.

As much as he felt that he needed to tell her, eventually it was her who broke the silence.

"Pick him up from school tomorrow," she said, her gaze finally rising to meet his across the table as her hand played almost nervously with the straw of her drink.

Luka blinked. For a moment, he was unable to understand what she was trying to tell him. "Pick him up…?" He blinked, sitting up straighter. "What?"

She looked _almost_ annoyed—as though she _wanted_ to be annoyed, but didn't have the necessary strength. "What part did you not understand?"

"You're not going to be there?"

"No," she answered firmly, looking down at the drink cooling in her hands. "I don't want my presence to sway him in any way."

"And you think leaving him alone with a _stranger_ will be better?" he demanded in a harsh whisper, leaning towards her.

Her eyes met his. "You're not a stranger. You're his father."

"Yeah," he scoffed. "Exactly."

"Look, I know Cadence. And I know that, if I'm there, his focus won't be on you. He'll constantly be looking at me for directions, for approval, constantly checking how I feel, how I look. The expression on my face, the look in my eyes, every word that comes out of my mouth—that's what he'll analyze later on. And that's how he'll come to conclusions. And I don't want that. I want him to know you."

"And your relationship with his father? Doesn't that matter?"

She shrugged, leaning back in her seat. "No. We're on talking terms, and that's that. What Cadence needs from you is a father. I—I don't need anything from you, Luka. Not anymore."

"Why not?" he challenged in a rare act of defiance.

She sighed, and stood up. Her tone was resigned when she spoke her last words.

"Because when I did, you weren't willing to give anything to me."

* * *

 **A/N:** Seriously, Luka...what did you do? Please leave a review!


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** I am sorry for the late upload, it's been a really busy week. I will be posting two or more chapters today, to catch up. Please don't forget to leave a review! Thank you!

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 8**

True to her word, his mother was nowhere to be seen that afternoon, when he exited the school building.

But there _was_ someone waiting for him—someone he could recognize in a heartbeat despite having never seen even once in real life.

If there was something in this world that Cadence hated more than he hated seeing his mother upset, that was being left in the dark for the sake of his safety. Because how could one be safe when they didn't know what the danger was and where it could come from? Too bad his mother didn't understand that, and was under the false impression that she could protect him from everything. Cadence knew she tried, and he appreciated that. She had, after all, done a perfect job until now. But there were aspects he could help her with, matters he could understand. He was still a child, but that didn't mean he didn't own a brain.

Heaving a sigh, he approached the stranger with slow, yet precise steps. When he reached him, the man crouched down in front of him, the same cerulean eyes that were so much like his own studying him carefully, with a mixture of fondness, pride, incredulousness and wariness swirling inside of them.

He knew this man, and he didn't know him from the picture. No, he knew him because his heart told him so. Unfortunately, that was the only thing he could rely on at the moment.

But Cadence didn't like relying on his heart in such situations, because that made him vulnerable, so he turned to his mind, and blurted out the only words he knew he could be sure of.

"Hey, Dad."

The resemblance was staggering.

Luka had only seen his son once before, and that had been from afar. But sitting here now, across from him, he couldn't help but wonder if it had ever been possible for him to walk past him on the street one day and not notice him, not realize, despite the fact that he hadn't known of his existence until merely three days ago.

He had Marinette's midnight dark hair and his blue orbs, but the strands fell to his face like his own, and his eyes studied everything with an analytical power he himself had mastered through the years. That cheeky grin was hers, without a doubt; perhaps the laugh, as well. His calculations, his calm demeanor, his affinity for ice-cream and all things sweet. But everything else, from what he could tell, was Marinette's. Her way of thinking, her way of drawing conclusions, her way of speaking—even her mannerisms. The stubbornness was something he had inherited from the both of them, but the way he used it in his favor? Like his mother.

And perhaps that was partially the result of her influence over him, since she had been the only parent he had ever known, but the fact remained: he saw her in him as much as she had probably seen him. And his question was… how had she dealt with this for so long?

"Look," he started, heaving a sigh, "I know what your mother must have told you about me—"

"Nah," he interrupted him, shaking his head. "Actually, she didn't tell me anything about you."

Luka frowned.

"I mean, I did come across that picture of you two a few weeks ago, and she said she could find you for me if I wanted—I know she already told you this, she kind of screamed it at you back at the apartment—but I said no."

"Why?" he asked.

Cadence shrugged, licking his spoon clean. "'Cause she seemed really… I don't know—guarded, I guess. And I didn't _know_ you, and I kind of felt like I didn't _need_ you, either, so I thought I shouldn't put her in a situation where she could get hurt when there's always the possibility of me not even liking you at all, you know?"

It took him a moment to follow the course of his thoughts. "That's nice," he eventually noted.

Cadence looked up at him suspiciously. "Sarcasm?" he tried.

Luka smiled. "No. I meant—that you think of your mother first."

"I have to," he said, swinging his legs back and forth on his seat. "No one else does. And she does the same for me."

That, in itself, was what he had been unconsciously most afraid of ever since he found out the truth. That the relationship between mother and son would be too perfect, too well-balanced to let him in. That he would never gain a place in their life without ruining something. Because Luka had _seen_ the way Marinette talked about their son, the spark in her eyes, the lightness in her posture. He had seen the protective way she spoke of him. He had seen them interact. And truly, there was nothing missing from their life.

But looking at his child now, he knew he would try. He would try to become close to him, no matter the outcome. And if Cadence ended up accepting him as his father, then he would behave as such. If not, then he would leave. He had already watched everything that had ever mattered to him leave his life once, so he would be alright; he knew what needed to be done in order for them to be happy.

But he would try. Because this— _him_ —was worth it.

Cadence made a dash for his mother as soon as they exited the building.

* * *

Marinette pushed off the car to receive his embrace, and she smiled down at him as he wrapped his little arms around her waist, brushing his hair away from his forehead in a gentle gesture.

She was beautiful. That was the first thought that crossed his mind when he caught sight of her. She was dressed casually, far from the businesswoman he had seen the day before and she was looking down at Cadence with such tenderness in her eyes, that it made his heart beat faster.

She spared a single glance at him. Their eyes locked, for a mere second, and it was as though every shield in the world rose to protect her once more.

Cadence tugged on her shirt to gain her attention, and the moment she gazed down again, her lips stretched into a smile. Stuffing his hands into his pockets, Luka hung his head and left without ever looking back.

Marinette watched with mild amusement and fondness as Cadence ran towards her, almost knocking her off-balance when he wrapped his arms around her waist.

Running her hands through his thick, blond hair, she smiled down at him.

"How was it?" she asked softly.

"He's cool," he answered simply, his eyes serious and sincere.

"Yeah?" she prodded.

"Mhmm."

* * *

She took a moment to gather her courage before she looked up, and there he was, watching them, an odd mixture of longing, tenderness, and pain mixing in his eyes.

She had to look away immediately, not because her son demanded her attention, but because her heart felt as though it was about to burst.

"He said he wants to see me… on Saturday, I think," he announced. "And he said to call him to tell him if I can."

Marinette nodded, steering him gently towards the car. "If you want to," she answered as she opened the door for him and ushered him inside.

"I want to."

She almost froze in the action of slipping inside the vehicle, but she managed to catch herself in time. This was making him happy, she reminded herself. And she would do anything for Cadence to be happy.

"Good," she whispered, and turned the key into ignition.

* * *

 **A/N:** Kind of awkward don't you think? I will be posting the next chapter in a few minutes. Please review, thanks!


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** Actually, I have 7 minutes left before my lunch ends then go back to work, then after work it's online class for law school. Like I said, it's a busy week, especially midterms coming up next week.

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 9**

Cadence had just climbed onto his bed when his mother made her appearance in his room that night.

"Ready for sleep?" she inquired in a soft voice, bending down to pick up the shirt he had thrown carelessly on the floor.

Cadence frowned. She had not complained and she had not rebuffed him—but his mother _hated_ cleaning up after him.

"Are you mad at me?" he ventured, unsure.

"No," she answered as she draped the piece of clothing over the back of his chair; there was a frown on her face as she turned to face him. "Why would I be?"

His answer was simple. "Because I met up with Dad."

"Cadence," she started as she made her way towards him. "I was the one who wanted you to meet him, remember?" Sitting down beside him, she encouraged him to slip underneath the covers, tucking him in once he complied.

"Well, yeah, but…"

"You heard us fighting," she deduced. "I agree, that wasn't the best start your relationship with him could have had. But it's only natural that he got mad when he found out that I kept you a secret."

Unsure of how to answer to that, Cadence extended his arms towards her in a silent gesture. Marinette understood, smiling a small smile as she shifted so that her back was to the headboard, welcoming him in her arms. Immediately, he snuggled up beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head over her stomach.

"I still love you more," he murmured.

"Don't say that," she chided softly, running her fingers through his hair. "He deserves to be loved just as much as I do. And once you get to know him, you'll realize that."

"You speak nice of him," he remarked. "As if you knew he was a good person."

"He _is_ a good person."

"Then why did you break up?" he demanded. "Why don't you get along now?"

Marinette's brows furrowed as the interrogatory continued. "We do get along," she answered.

Cadence rolled his eyes. "You didn't even come to talk to him, Mom."

"I talked to him yesterday, after I dropped you off at school."

"Did you?"

"Yes."

"But then why didn't you at least say hello today?" he pressed.

"Because—" She paused abruptly, shaking her head. "Because maybe it's exactly because of that that we do get along. Because we don't talk—not even greet."

Cadence frowned, looking up at her for the first time since they started the conversation. "How does that even work?"

"You don't have to understand this now," she said. "You're too young. Maybe life will teach you this lesson, maybe it won't. But sometime in the future, you'll understand what I'm saying and why."

It didn't take him long to catch on, and his eyes burned with stubbornness and determination as they pierced right through her. "It's because you fight, isn't it? Because every time you talk, you end up fighting."

Marinette swallowed. "Yes." Her answer was a whisper.

"Why?" he demanded, sitting up. "Why can't you just say nice things to one another?"

"Because sometimes even nice things hurt," she snapped.

Cadence reeled back with the force of her words, and she sighed, taking a deep breath in order to calm down.

"Look, Cadence… Please don't do this to me," she begged. "Don't start asking me why. Don't start wishing that your father and I got back together. I know it's hard for you to understand. I know you want what every other child has—a family. But you'll have to learn to conform to the fact that you have me, and you have him, and we're two different persons that have nothing to do with one another. Be grateful that you _have_ us."

His entire resolve melted at the sight of the tears that shone brightly in her eyes. "I am," he promised, his little arms coming to wrap tightly against her waist as he buried his face back into her stomach. "I'm not trying to make you go back to him. I just wanted to know why… I don't understand what's going on."

"Stop thinking about what's going on and start enjoying his presence in your life," she advised. "Alright?"

He nodded.

"Is that a promise?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now go to sleep," she whispered as she slipped out of his embrace, bending down to kiss his forehead after he had accommodated himself on the pillow. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She managed to keep herself together until she exited his darkened room. The moment the door closed behind her, however, she could no longer avoid reality crushing her. She closed her eyes, and leaned back against the wooden surface, a shuddering breath leaving her lips as she forced her body to relax.

How was she supposed to do this? How had she assumed that she would?

* * *

 **A/N:** I don't even know what to say, but I'll post another chapter in a few minutes, again. Please leave a review. Thanks!


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** It's a good thing I finished the next few chapters already so all I have to do is to post it.

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 10**

She stared at the phone in her hands, the numbers on the touch-screen jumbling together before her eyes.

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Droplets of water slid down the large, floor-to-ceiling window she was facing, overlooking dark streets and wind-swept trees. The door to her office was open, muted sounds of people buzzing with activity seeping inside the four walls. It was late morning, and Marinette was at work.

She thought it could hardly be said so, though, because all she had been doing since she came in was spare furtive glances at the telephone or spend minutes with it in her hands, tapping numbers and hovering over the call button, only to back away and delete them after traitorous second thoughts.

Quite frankly, she believed she was being ridiculous – childish, even – so the next time her fingers touched the keyboard, she didn't let them stop halfway.

The phone rang – once, twice, thrice – until the call connected, and a familiar voice greeted her.

_"Hello?"_

Taking a deep breath, she tried to reign in her emotions and to calm her erratically beating heart. "You know, it's a bit arrogant of you to assume that I still remember you phone-number," she said.

There was a moment of silence from the other end.

 _"Which you do,"_ the answer eventually came.

"Not exactly," she denied. "Anyway, why're a you calling, I have a job you know."

" _A rather nice job if I may say so myself. A designer now? It was always your dream."_

Marinette raised an eyebrow. "No, I am not a designer, and what was your was your first clue of me having a nice job?"

 _"Your car, how come you're not a designer."_ he answered simply.

"Being a designer doesn't exactly pay my dues before but that's none of your concern now, isn't it? Anyway, Cadence wants to meet with you on Saturday. So, you can pick a place and I'll drop him off. Let me know."

She was left to wonder, as she clutched her phone in her hands, whether the reason why she had ended the conversation before he could say something else was because she wanted to hear his voice again.

Heaving a sigh, she allowed the tension to leave her body as she leaned back in her seat, hands massaging her temples. The entire situation was hectic, without norms or regulations, and it was putting a tremendous strain on her. Seeing Luka again had not done her any good. Of course, she hadn't assumed it would, but she had expected to be more detached. She had expected not to feel her heart breaking into a million pieces—and not because she should be over him by now, but because she knew this was doing good to her child.

"Are you alright?"

Her head snapped up at the unexpected voice, and she turned around to face its possessor, slightly surprised upon being met by blue eyes and worried features.

"Alexandre," she acknowledged. "I didn't see you there."

He nodded, walking further into the room. He seemed to be debating something for a moment, before he spoke. "I apologize, but… was that him? I heard without wanting, and… and a million scenarios formed inside my head."

Alexandre and Marinette had spoken about 'him' a couple of times over the duration of their still rather short collaboration, mainly due to his insistence to become involved in her personal life. The blonde indulged him that, up to a certain point, not because she enjoyed his attention, but because she wasn't bothered by it. She had learned to let people in, and as long as their relationship remained professional and he was not crossing any of the lines she had drawn, she didn't mind sharing a few words with him every once in a while.

She didn't care to lie to him, either. "Yes, that was him."

"Do you…" He stopped, resting his hands over the back of one of the chairs available in front of her desk. "Do you need me to find you a lawyer?"

Marinette raised her eyebrows. "A lawyer? What for?"

"I don't suppose he took the news well. He couldn't have _not_ been upset about the fact that you kept the existence of his child a secret."

She nodded once, encouraging him to continue.

"He will try to take Cadence away from you."

Marinette shook her head. "No," she said, with even more confidence than him.

"The need for revenge is something that characterizes the human race. He may seem complacent now, but I think it's better for you to lay down some terms in writing."

"Alexandre, Luka isn't like that. He knows how much Cadence means to me. He would never do something like that."

"You sound sure," he remarked.

"I _am_ sure," she responded, mildly irritated now.

"Well, then if he's such a good person, why did you leave him?"

"That is _not_ your problem!" she snapped, scandalized. "And you know what? I find it very low of you to try to drag another man in the dirt because it suits your needs."

Alexandre frowned. "I am not—"

"I know perfectly well what you're doing!"

"Marinette, it's just—" He stopped himself, throwing his hands in the air in a gesture of frustration. "It's incredible how much trust you still have in him."

"Our situation is… different," she said, eager to end the conversation. "Okay? It's messed up. It's… difficult to explain what happened, and—and in all honesty, what's _still_ happening. I warned you from the very beginning: stay away from this subject, Alexandre. That would be best for you."

The message was clear. And as she looked straight into his eyes, he could tell that she meant every word she had said.

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes, Alexandre, it's none of your business. Please leave a review. I have to get back to work. I'll try to update later tonight though.


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir

 **Author's Note:** I will be posting a few chapters again today.

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 11**

There were no words to describe his surprise when Marinette climbed out of the car that morning and approached him. Steering Cadence towards the nearly deserted beach with a hand over his back and a quiet command, she continued on her way towards him.

Although almost numb with confusion, he took her lead and began to follow her once she had reached his side. For a long moment, she was silent. Looking straight ahead, she seemed to be debating something.

"I'm sorry," she eventually said, halting her movements as she came to stand in front of him. The wind whipped over her face and played with her hair, forcing her to tuck dark locks behind her ears in an effort to tame the dancing silky strands.

Luka raised his eyebrows. "Are you?"

"Yes," she answered firmly, confidently. "For not granting you the right to see Cadence grow. Am I sorry for what I've done? For keeping away when I should have come back? Not entirely. Because—my actions were logical back then. And, quite honestly, they still are. Maybe I was selfish—or maybe I sure was—but… but I didn't want to come back. I didn't want to suddenly find myself back in that house, back with you, after I'd forced myself—after I'd gathered every bit of courage I had—to leave you. I couldn't stand to be one more moment by your side."

He nodded slowly, and looked down at his feet, allowing the information to sink in before he reached a conclusion. "Do you hate me?" he asked, resigned, yet at the same time, hopeful.

"No," she answered, shaking her head.

The relieved breath he exhaled went unnoticed.

"I could never hate you. But I didn't want anything to do with you anymore."

"I see."

"We weren't ready to have a child, Luka. No matter how many movies we've seen where it says a baby solves everything. For Cadence to grow in the environment that existed in that house…"

"You weren't ready to have a child, either, Marinette," he interrupted her, gazing down at her with a piercing look.

There was a silent confidence in her eyes when she answered, "That changed when I held him in my arms for the first time. True, my dreams came to a halt when I learned I was pregnant with him, but it-he's still the best thing that ever happened to me."

Luka heaved a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair and shaking his head as he admitted, "I don't know what you expect from me now, Marinette."

"Nothing. But Cadence… he might have some expectations, and if you could meet them, I would be very grateful."

"Cadence is my son. And he bears no fault in this whole… situation. You don't, either—at least not entirely." He paused, taking a deep breath. "You made your decision based on what had happened between us, and I… as much as I want to, I can't blame you for making the choice you've made."

"Tossing the blame around won't help. Neither will dividing it, nor will trying to find explanations for things that happened so much time ago. What I said… a few days ago, about how I wanted nothing to do with you… That was stupid. You are the father of my child, and I… There is something binding us, as much as I'd like it not to."

"And we have to get along," he agreed with a nod.

"We do. Regardless, I'm leaving," she announced, already taking a step away. "Don't retain Cadence too much. We—"

"You're leaving?" a new voice inquired, surprised.

Marinette froze at the sight of her son, with sand on his feet and pants wet up to his knees. She raised an eyebrow. "You sincerely thought it would be a good idea to just—take off running into the water," she stated.

Cadence laughed. "Yeah," he admitted.

"Okay." She breathed in deeply. "Yes, I'm leaving. Try not to be late, because I want you to do your homework today —"

"What?" he demanded, eyes wide. "Why?"

His mother placed her hands on her hips, gazing down at him with an annoyed look in her eyes. "You know I have to be in London tonight."

"Oh, yes. I forgot."

"I am not surprised.

"But I can do my homework on my own!" he offered. "I did it before!"

"Don't remind me," she advised.

Luka laughed as he joined the conversation, "I can help."

She spared him a sideward glance. "You?" she jeered.

"Yes," he answered. "Why not?"

"Why do you think?"

"Come on," he said, "I grew up."

She raised her eyebrows. "Did you, now?"

He rolled his eyes playfully. "That was just mean."

Marinette heaved a sigh. "Yes, the truth hurts. Regardless," she said, turning her attention back to Cadence. "You—"

"Let me take him to my place tonight, after all you will be gone th whole weekend for this business trip and why hire a babysitter when he's father is here?" Luka suggested, interrupting her impending sentence.

"Why would I do that?" she countered, raising an eyebrow. "I will be home right after this trip and I trust Marie, his babysitter, to keep occupied until I return. And he already knows—"

"I know. I don't doubt that he can take care of himself. But… Come on, let him."

"I can't," she answered, crossing her arms over her chest. "You don't know what he eats, what he—" Luka almost rolled his eyes. "He has a mouth."

She was about to retort, but then she changed her mind. Closing her mouth, she turned to Cadence. "Do you want that?" she asked him, her voice gentle.

The boy shrugged. "I don't mind."

"You're still doing your homework tonight," she warned, but her words lacked conviction. Luka wondered if his son could feel that as well as he could.

He rolled his eyes. "I already knew that."

"Fine," she said, before swiftly side-stepping them.

She was already halfway the distance to her car when Luka made up his mind, running after her. He called out her name before he came to a stop beside her. The blonde frowned as she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, looking up at him suspiciously. Opening her mouth, she was about to demand explanations, when his next words knocked the breath out of her.

"Let him spend the whole weekend with me."

"What?" she spluttered.

"Let me spend Sunday with him, too."

"Luka, I…"

"Come on," he pleaded. "Use the time to rest, to relax… anything." He shrugged. "I'll bring him home on Sunday evening, I swear."

She hesitated for a long while. As a silent battle seemed to take place in her eyes, realization slowly dawned on him: this wasn't easy for her. For him, the situation was as simple as it could get at this moment; all he had to do was ask. But she? She had to give. Give and give until almost nothing remained for her.

Eventually, after a long, tension-filled pause, she nodded. "Okay."

As she turned without another word and walked the remaining distance to her car, Luka almost felt sorry for the proposition he had made her. He should have been more considerate. Cadence was the only family she had, and she had never had to share him with anybody until now.

But there was a selfish part of him, a much larger, dominant part, that told him that perhaps he had the right to spend time with his child much more than she did—or ever would, now.

* * *

**A/N:** Exams are almost over, yay! Please leave a review. Thanks!


	13. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** I wonder if anyone here loves anime too?

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 12**

The apartment was silent when she arrived home that Sunday night. The sound of her heels clicking on the hardwood floors echoed in the large, empty space.

Outside, the night was still young, Parisians were still up and about enjoying the cool breeze running around the city and normally, this time is her and Cadence's bonding time after her long day at work. Not this time, though.

Heaving a sigh, she forced herself out of the state the resounding emptiness had brought her in and advanced into the room, throwing her keys on the small table near the door. Running a hand through her hair, she dropped her bag on the couch in passing, as she made her way into the kitchen. Her head was pounding, so she grabbed a bottle of Tylenol she always kept within easy reach, shook a pill out, and fetched herself a glass of cold water. She took it with her to the living room after she had swallowed the painkiller, setting it down on the coffee table.

There was no way she could close her eyes in this situation, so she kicked her heels off and settled on the couch to watch the twinkling lights over the city through the large glass wall. She was tired—exhausted, even—both because of the travel and the conference she had had to attend, but there were thoughts circling in her head—thoughts that made her restless.

She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so out of her element, so unreasonably scared. Even when Luka appeared out of the blue on her doorstep, she had known what her next move would be. But now… now it was impossible for her to see the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel.

Since he was born, Cadence had never been _one_ day apart from her—one day. Perhaps she had left him alone for a couple of hours while she dealt with matters regarding work, perhaps there were nights when he went to sleep on his own, and perhaps he had learned to make sandwiches by himself whenever she was late for dinner.

But he had never been away from her.

Marinette had known that their lives would have to change once Luka stepped into the picture. She had known the time had come for her to _share_ her son. She had known that Cadence would grow to love his other parent, that maybe he would grow even to _prefer_ him. That had never bothered her, though, because he was his father, and that was the way things should have always been like.

But she was completely in the dark when it came to knowing how to deal with this.

She wanted Cadence to be happy more than she wanted anything else in the entire world, but if that meant being away from him…

_"He will try to take Cadence away from you."_

_"The need for revenge is something that characterizes the human race."_

"No," she whispered to herself as she brought her knees up to her chest and drove her hands forcefully through her hair. Tears filled her eyes. "You _wouldn't_ do this to me. You wouldn't. You _couldn't_."

The problem was… she had trusted him once. And he had let her down.

She pushed that thought away as soon as it came. She would _not_ blame him for what had happened between them. She would _not_ blame him for their failed marriage. She simply refused to. He wasn't the only one at fault, and thinking like that was selfish and irrational. Marinette had spent many restless nights over the past six years trying to come up with a proper explanation for this situation. She had been unable to.

And that was the exact reason why she couldn't blame him.

What she needed to do was trust him. There was no other way. The moment they stepped over the threshold not an hour later she arrived home, Cadence was no longer by Luka's side.

"Mom!" he heard him shout, his little footsteps thundering out of the room.

Luka took longer in entering, but rounded the corner in time to see him leaping into his mother's arms. Marinette caught him easily, hugging him tightly as his own little arms came to wrap around her neck; she smiled, kissing his cheek, before resting her head against his and closing her eyes.

"God, I'm not used to being away from you," she said.

Cadence laughed, pulling back to see her face. "Nah, me neither."

"Then I guess it's a good thing that I kept my promise," Luka, who had been watching the exchange quietly from where he leaned against the wall, said, bringing their attention upon him.

"Good for you, yes," she answered. She shifted the boy in her arms, but refused to put him down. Cadence grinned at him from where he had tucked his head below her chin.

Luka smiled. "You had fun?" he asked.

He laughed, exclaiming, "Yeah! I met my aunts!"

Marinette kissed the top of his head to hide her smile, bending her head slightly to talk to him, "Why don't you go upstairs?" she suggested, placing another kiss on his cheek.

"Sure," he agreed.

She lowered him to the floor. Her smile was obvious as she watched him bound up the stairs, taking two at a time. Then she turned to Luka, hands stuck in the back pockets of her jeans, blonde hair falling over her shoulders in soft waves, amber eyes staring directly into his.

"Thank you," she told him, genuinely. "For taking care of him...so, he already met Juleka and I'm guessing, Rose too?

Luka smiled, shaking his head. "No. Thank you, for letting me spend time with him, and yes, they peppered him in kisses and spoiled him rotten the moment they set their eyes on them."

"I told you once, Luka. I won't keep him away from you. Where's your mom?"

"I don't want you away from me, either," he confessed. "I know that… you don't want to be around me. I know, and I understand. But the thing is… Cadence misses you these days. And I—" Luka paused before heaving a sigh, "Uh, Mom's in Scotland, going over something over the ancestral house, I told her about Cadence though, she would want to meet him too and you. Juleka and Rose too, they missed you."

"I-uh, I missed them too, I just don't know if I would still be welcome after everything that happened to us. To be honest, I haven't contacted anyone since we arrived back here. I-don't-uh, I just don't feel like seeing them yet, I owe them a lot of explanation. I just packed up and left without so much of an explanation to the. They were my friends and I just left." she said, complete ignoring the first part of his reply.

Luka nodded. "We can't be two separate persons. Not when it comes to him, and that goes to my family too, he's my son and they would want to meet him, but I understand, I'll let you know before if they want to see him again...and your friends? Marinette, the moment you left I've been bombarded by questions about your whereabouts. I'm sure they would love to see you and Cadence. Huh, I vividly remember Kagami came at me with her sabre threatening my life after what happened to us. Please talk to her." Luka chuckled as he remembered that certain memory.

"That's Kagami, alright. Yes, I'll contact them soon. It's just been so busy these past few days. And I know. I got that, they are your family, I am not going to keep my- _our_ son from his family. And for Cadence…" She shook her head. "Luka, I would do anything for Cadence."

Luka smiled. "Then I guess we're on the same page," he said. Pulling the key the boy had given him mere minutes before out of his pocket, he attempted to hand it over.

But Marinette shook her head. "Keep it," she said. "I have a feeling you'll be around for a long while."

She was about to close the door, when a thought entered her mind, she didn't know what came over to her to blurt it out suddenly just as he was leaving. "Oh, but I met Adrien in London, he's there to represent _Gabriel_."

Luka felt a shiver running down his spine as soon as he heard Adrien's name. Marinette already closed the door before he could even reply and the walk to his car had him contemplating with thoughts he remembered thinking when they were still teenagers.

" _Marinette and Adrien?"_

* * *

**A/N:** Oho! Is Adrien going to steal the scene? Please leave a review!


	14. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** I already changed the rating and put tags accordingly so, I apologize for a bit of domestic violence.

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 13**

The first time he put his key to use was one evening, when the sun was lowering into the sky, and the scent of wet pavement lingered in the air from the earlier rain.

He had come to take Cadence for a walk, but as he opened the door, he was greeted by silence. Upon advancing further into the apartment, he realized why that was. Marinette was asleep on the couch, with Cadence nestled up in the crook of her neck, their midnight dark hair mingling together. He smiled.

Cadence rose upon feeling his presence, peering up at him with curious, half-lidded eyes that widened in excitement as realization sunk in. Signaling him to remain silent, Luka lifted him effortlessly in his arms, careful not to awaken his mother. Despite shifting slightly and releasing a soft sigh at their movements, the woman continued to sleep, unperturbed.

"She's tired," Cadence whispered helpfully. "'Cause she had a project to work on last night."

Luka's expression softened at the explanation. "I see," he murmured. "Can you go grab a blanket for her? In silence."

The boy nodded eagerly, and as soon as his father set him on his feet, he tore off in the direction of the stairs, only to return a mere minute later with a dark-blue, fleece blanket.

"Go find a jacket," Luka suggested, taking the offering. "I'll take you out, as promised."

With another nod, Cadence disappeared once again, leaving his parents alone.

Luka unfolded the blanket and gently laid it over the sleeping Marinette, before crouching down beside the couch. Now that his son had pointed it out, he could clearly see the tiredness etched in her features; there were faint dark circles underneath her eyes, and the fact that she had not sensed his presence spoke volumes.

But she looked calm. Her cheeks were rosy, she was taking in deep, even breaths, and her body seemed more relaxed than he had seen it in a long time.

While he was lost in his thoughts, she shifted again, causing a lock hair to slide over her face. It was practically a no-brainer when he reached out to return it to its place.

As he did so, he was momentarily distracted by the silkiness of her hair and the softness of her skin, and he ran his eyes over her features. How she could be so beautiful was beyond him. The two of them were by no means old, but regardless of that, the years had completely passed her by. Sleeping like she was—calm, warm and small, swallowed by a soft, dark blanket—she was the same precious girl he had met so much time in the past, the girl that had him wrapped around her finger from the moment she addressed him for the first time, the girl that had made him fall in love with her at first sight.

And there were times like these when he wondered… what had gone wrong for them to end up like this—separated and full of resentments?

But there was no time to delve deeper in that matter, because his son came downstairs, and Luka realized in that moment that the past mattered less than he would have wanted.

What he had to focus on now was the present—and that present was Cadence. Cadence and his happiness.

* * *

When Marinette woke up, night had fallen. The room was dark, the only source of light being the bustling city below.

Pushing herself into a sitting position, she called out Cadence's name. She frowned as a soft, warm blanket that she didn't remember having used slid down her body to pool around her lap. The young boy was known for taking care of her, but he usually woke her up to tell her to go to bed. Then again, she had been so tired this time, that she had even failed to sense him slip out of her arms, so she could understand if he told her she hadn't reacted to his attempts at rousing her.

Running a hand through her hair, she sighed tiredly, swinging her legs over the edge of the couch. "Cadence," she called again.

Thoughts of dinner were filling her mind as she realized that all she had received in response was silence. She opened her mouth to shout again, louder this time, but stopped. Cadence wouldn't ignore her—and perhaps more importantly, he wouldn't be so quiet, even if she were asleep.

Panic in her system, she flung the blanked off her and was about to stand up when a key turned on the lock and the front door opened. Familiar footsteps ran down the hallway, and she heaved out a sigh of relief. Closing her eyes, she tried to calm her racing heart, opening them back just in time to see her son leap onto the couch, beside her, grinning as he threw his arms around her for a hug. She returned the gesture eagerly, burying her nose into his hair. Her gaze rose as the light switched on; another set of footsteps approached, and Luka came into her line of sight, an unreadable look in his eyes.

"Don't ever do that again," she warned, her temper flaring. Her hand smoothed over Cadence's head as it rested on her shoulder.

Luka smiled lightly. "Marinette, there is no other person he could have been with than me."

"I imagined," she snapped. "But that doesn't matter. You need to tell me when you take him."

She was not mad—she was annoyed, but she was relieved more. Her eyes were guarded, but there was an underlying veil of fear in them that shone brightly as she clutched Cadence to her chest. And he realized in that moment, she had been truly scared.

His eyes softening, he crouched down beside the couch. "Hey, it's okay," he soothed, laying a hand over her forearm. "I promise I will. But you were sleeping…"

"You could have left me a note," she countered. "If you hadn't come when you did, I don't know what I would have done."

Cadence laughed in her arms. "Mom," he whined.

Marinette titled his chin up, looking down at him. "You have no right to say anything," she told him. "You know how precious you are to me."

The boy grinned, hugging her in response.

She kissed the top of his head. "Go get changed and I'll start dinner, alright?"

With a nod, he left the comfort of her arms and jumped off the couch, storming upstairs.

Marinette watched him leave, making sure he was out of sight before she turned her gaze to Luka. "Don't ever do that again," she repeated, her tone cold and hard.

He blinked, surprised. "Marinette, we've already been through this. He couldn't have been with any other person than me."

"I don't care who he's with—if he's with you or with a stranger. I _need_ to know where he is. So the next time you think of taking him away, you'll have to tell me when you're taking me, where you're taking him, what you're going to do there, and when you're bringing him back. Do you understand?"

Luka scoffed. He knew she was protective of her son, and he understood that, but this was ridiculous. "What do you think I'll do to him? Steal him away?"

Throwing him a harsh glare, she looked away, her entire body tense with anger.

Once again, he found his answer in her silence. "You think I'll take him away from you," he concluded ironically.

"So what?" she demanded, standing up and forcing him to do the same. "You wouldn't _do_ that? You haven't _thought_ of that? You wouldn't be _capable_ of that?"

He laughed disbelievingly. "Marinette, the only one between the two of us capable of that is you," he hissed.

Clenching her jaw, she made a move to leave, but he grabbed her arm, yanked her back roughly, and kept her in place.

"Listen to me," he demanded. "I don't care _what_ you do. We've already established this. If you decide you don't want to be around me anymore, you're free to go. But you're not taking Cadence with you again. Because if you do that, I'll follow you to the end of the world, Marinette."

"Yes, I know," she replied abruptly, harshly, standing her ground and glaring up at him. "I know you're strong and powerful and influential. I _know_ that. But for Cadence, I'm capable of _killing_. So don't come to me with threats."

Violently yanking her arm out of his tight grip, she stormed away, leaving him to place his hands on his hips, hang his head, close his eyes and sigh heavily in defeat. This was not what he had had in mind when he came to see Cadence tonight…

"I'm sorry," a trembling voice cut loud and clear through the thick silence that had fallen over the room.

Eyes widening in surprise, he turned to see Marinette, halfway to the stairs, hands buried in the back pockets of her jeans self-consciously and large amber eyes staring up at him uncertainty.

"I didn't mean that. I overreacted. But try to understand, Cadence is all I have. _Please_ let me know the next time you take him."

Luka sighed. "I was, Marinette," he repeated. "I was, but you were sleeping, and he said you were tired…"

"It doesn't matter," she insisted. "It doesn't matter if I'm sleeping or if I'm working… It does _not_ matter. I _need_ to know."

As realization slowly dawned on him, followed by understanding, Luka nodded. "Alright."

"Thank you," she whispered, and the vulnerability in her demeanor nearly made him squeeze his eyes shut to block the image out.

Cadence was not just her son. He was not just her family. He was everything. He was her entire world. And the reason why she had kept him away from him, from his father, had not been selfishness, but rather, selflessness. There was no way it could have been easy for her to raise a child by herself, and Luka knew it had not. But she had done it—and she had done it because she had known that witnessing their fights and living in their house would only devastate their child.

Everything—absolutely everything she had done over the past six years—had been about Cadence and for Cadence. Exactly like she had said—exactly like he had refused to believe.

And he had no right to judge her. He had no right to be upset with her. He had no right to feel superior to her. Because she, as much as it pained him to admit, had made the right choice.

"Give me some time, alright?" she pleaded, taking a step closer. "I'm not like Cadence. I need… I need a bit more to get used to everything—to sharing him, to coming home and not finding him here, to you. I'm scared. You know I've always been scared of what lay ahead—of changes, of uncertainty. You know I've always been protective of the people I love. This isn't going to last forever. You won't have to answer to me for the rest of your life, but—help me a little, will you? Give me some time to learn how to trust you again."

His answer, when it came, was a whisper. "You don't really believe what you said, do you?" It sounded like a question, but there, in that room, looking at each other in the eye, they both knew it was a plea.

"Luka, I…" She hesitated. "I'm not going to lie to you. I don't feel like I know you anymore. You just-you're different. You don't hurt people, hell, I remember a time when you can't even hurt a fly, but with the-" Marinette consciously caressed the arm he grabbed, "I had been feeling like I was living with a stranger for a long time before we separated. But no, I don't believe that."

She shook her head, an incredulous smile curling the corners of her lips upwards as she ran her hand through her hair in a desperate manner—the contrast so stark that it nearly knocked the breath out of him.

"I don't know what it is about you that makes me say things I don't mean. But I'm not letting history repeat itself. I can't do that to Cadence. I can't." Shaking her head, she closed the distance between them.

"Let's make a promise," she said, eyes boring into his—begging him to listen, to understand, to agree. "I don't know how much my word means to you after everything—or if it still means anything at all—but please, let's do this. Let's promise that we won't fight anymore. That we won't judge each other, that we won't scream every time we don't agree on something. Let's promise to talk things out—every insecurity, every question." Biting her lip, she fought back the tears that flooded her eyes. "We didn't make good spouses," she whispered. "But let's make good parents."

His entire expression softening, he stepped forward, so close that he could feel her perfume. The instinct to protect that had been lying dormant inside of him for so long came back in a rush, increased tenfold, as he stared down at her small figure. Reaching out, he hesitated, but went through with his action, tucking a strand behind her ear and caressing her silky hair. She didn't recoil.

"I'm sorry for grabbing you like that but I promise," he said, staring straight into her thankful eyes. "Everything will be alright. Trust me on this one." It was the first time in six years that he said that phrase and believed it with every fiber of his being.

* * *

 **A/N:** I apologize beforehand if certain parts of this story triggers something to my readers.


	15. 14

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** I apologize, I know it's been weeks since the last update, but I've been busy these past few weeks.

**Desideratum**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

**Fourteen**

The second time that he used his key was on a hot summer evening. He had just returned from abroad, and wanted to see the two most important persons in his life before he headed home to catch a few hours of undisturbed sleep.

What he found was Cadence sulking at the kitchen table and Marinette nowhere to be seen.

There was a notebook and a textbook spread out in front of him; his brows were furrowed, and he was looking as though he wanted to be anywhere else but there. His entire face lit up when he turned and caught sight of him; he was jumping out of his seat and launching himself at him before Luka could even fully process the action.

He grinned as he caught him and easily lifted him up into his arms, hugging his small frame tightly against his.

It was almost amazing, how effortlessly he had managed to make a place for himself in Cadence's life, how naturally loving him had come, how easily he had managed to fit in the role of a father, and how much satisfaction it brought. And he knew that part of the reason for that was Marinette—for keeping his place in his son's life unoccupied.

At times like these, he felt terribly guilty for all the things he had screamed at her that fateful night. "You know, it's incredible how I leave you alone for ten minutes, and you find something else to do."

Luka turned around at the sound of her voice to come face to face with the woman that would forever be haunting his thoughts.

She was dressed in a dark blue, short dress, with sleeves that reached her elbows and hems that brushed her mid thighs. Her long legs were clad in a pair of high, nude heels, and she was holding an envelope in her hands, together with her phone and a set of keys. Long dark hair had been twisted in a messy up-do in order not to fall down her back. She was wearing make-up, her eyes touched with the slightest hint of brown, her lips tainted pink, and her complexion as flawless as always.

He had thought the only one whom he had missed had been Cadence. After all, he had been used to her absence. It seemed like he had been wrong, though, because all that he felt in that moment, all he could possibly _think_ , was how to never let this woman out of his sight again.

"It wasn't my fault!" Cadence complained from where he sat in his embrace, his little arms wrapped around his neck.

"I know," Marinette answered. "I was simply curious if you wrote down another word in the time that I was gone."

"It wasn't—"

"Quit," she advised. "Now."

Cadence promptly shut his mouth at her stern tone and the serious expression on her face, but when Luka turned his head to face him with a knowing grin, he was surprised to find him not _glaring_ at her, but rather pressing his lips together in order to keep from _laughing_.

And he was left to wonder—how much was there left for him to learn about their relationship? How much was there left for him to discover about Marinette, about the mother of his child?

"I'm hungry?" he attempted, as incapable of losing an argument as Marinette herself was known to be.

"Sure," she agreed. "I make dinner, you do homework, and we'll see what happens next."

"I'll help," Luka offered.

Marinette rolled her eyes, already making her way towards the kitchen area. "Yes, you can stay, do nothing, and then have dinner with us."

Cadence and Luka both laughed.

Later, he sat at the table with his son, gazing around the luxurious apartment while he struggled to concentrate on finishing his homework.

When his eyes caught on a particularly expensive-looking bouquet of blood-red roses, he frowned.

Cadence, who had abandoned his sentence in favor of checking up on his father, followed his line of sight, glanced at the vase once, and then shrugged as he returned his gaze to his notebook.

"Alexandre likes her," he offered as an explanation.

Luka's entire expression seemed to darken as his eyes snapped down to look at him. "Who's Alexandre?"

"Her boss," he answered.

He raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Yeah. But she ignores him."

Huffing an amused breath, he smiled. He should have known. "That's good to know," he murmured, more to himself than to his son.

"Kind of everybody likes her," the boy continued. "She's really pretty."

"Is she, now?" Luka asked, grinning now, his gaze rising to watch her move about in the kitchen.

"You proud of her?"

"Yeah," he admitted. "She's prettier than most moms out there."

"That she is, Cadence," he said, gathering all of his willpower to unglue his eyes from her figure and look back down at his son. He ruffled his hair. "That she is."

"What are you two doing?" she demanded, taking them by surprise. They turned to see her standing beside them, hands on her hips. "Chatting?"

Cadence laughed.

"What's wrong?" Leaning against the table with one hand, she gazed down at him.

The boy looked up at her with a confused expression on his features.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You've been staring at that notebook for five minutes, and it better _not_ be because you're being lazy."

"I don't get this," he immediately claimed.

Whether he truly didn't or he said that exactly _because_ he was smart, Luka wasn't able to tell.

He could only watch, with a fond look in his eyes, as she explained the apparent problem to him, leaning over him, wavy strands of dark hair falling around her face. Her voice was patient as she spoke, and he could see the adoration in her expression.

"Is that clear?" she asked.

Cadence nodded.

She rolled her eyes once more as she moved back to the kitchen area. "Stop pouting," she said. "It's not getting you out of this."

"But, Mom—"

"You're doing your homework and that's that," she said in a firm voice.

Grinning, Luka rubbed his back affectionately. "Come on," he coaxed. "The faster you get this done, the sooner you can go back to your normal life."

"I know, but…" he whined, and from experience, he knew he was resisting the urge to slam his head down on the table.

He laughed. "And if I promise to take you out once you finish?"

The young boy still seemed reluctant, but after a moment of deliberation, nodded in agreement.

Luka smiled as he watched him pick up his pen and return to his homework, taking that as his cue to leave. With a new resolve, he moved to help Marinette in the kitchen. She was retrieving a knife from a drawer to cut up the ingredients for a salad when he came to stand beside her. Leaning against the counter with his hands on either side of him, he watched her.

"He seems to be a lot like me," he remarked wryly.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "You have no idea how right you are," she said.

He swallowed heavily. "Have you ever… thought about me when he did these things? When he complained, when he…?"

Marinette swore, and he immediately straightened in alarm. She had cut herself with the knife.

"Shit," he muttered. Taking control, he opened the tap and grabbed her hand, shoving it under the cold water. A small hiss escaped her lips; the wound was deep, thick blood trickling out of it and mixing with water to run down the drain. She attempted to jerk away at first, but he kept her in place with a firm grip on her wrist until he spotted a clean rag on the counter and was able to press it to the cut.

Holding her finger tightly, he looked at her in the eye. Neither spoke for a long moment. It seemed like an eternity had passed since they last gazed at each other like that.

"Should I take that as a 'yes'?" he eventually asked.

She averted her gaze. "What we had, Luka… what we had was special. There was no way I could have forgotten it so easily, just because I wanted to. Cadence reminded me of you in every way possible." She huffed an amused breath, shaking her head. "He still does."

"That can't have been easy, Marinette," he pressed, taking a step closer, the movement coaxing her into looking up at him. "It just can't. How did you deal with it?"

"The same way anybody would have, in my place," she answered breezily. "It's okay now," she said, gently taking her hand back. "Thanks."

Leaning against the counter once again, he watched as she walked out of the room, only to return a moment later with a band-aid. After wrapping it expertly around her finger, she resumed her activities.

The words pushed their way past his lips then, long before he could filter them, long before he could think them through. Almost immediately, though, he decided he didn't regret saying them. "Do you think…?"

"No," she answered firmly, abruptly. She didn't need to hear the rest in order to know what he meant, what he was asking her.

Luka, on his part, recognized the signs. The walls were once again rising around her to protect her, like they did every time she was vulnerable—like they did every time she was around him.

And there was nothing he could do to stop that.

* * *

 **A/N:** I will quickly update the following chapters.


	16. 15

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** Please don't forget to leave a review! Thanks!

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 15**

That day, Luka came to take Marinette and Cadence to lunch, but as soon as the front door opened, he realized that something was wrong. She was as pale as a sheet, and she had a glass of water in her hand. There was no other evidence to lead him to that conclusion, but Luka knew her—and that was enough.

"Are you alright?" he asked, frowning, giving her the chance to tell him about it on her own.

Marinette, on the other hand, nodded. "My head hurts, but it's nothing serious."

Skeptical, he closed the distance between them and placed the back of his hand over her forehead, checking her temperature.

Marinette closed her eyes in relief at the feel of his cold hand touching her heated skin. "You're burning up…" he whispered, his own eyes meeting her blues ones.

"It must be the flu," she dismissed, swatting his hand away. "Do you think you can handle Cadence on your own for tonight? I could take care of him, but he's annoyingly protective. He could make me go to the hospital with the simple promise to shut up—and that would be a drag."

Luka huffed a half-amused, half-astonished breath. Even after all the time that had passed since he entered their lives, the relationship between them never failed to amaze him. "That's good," he concluded.

Heaving a sigh, she closed her eyes and grimaced subtly as the throbbing in her head intensified.

"Fuck," he cursed before he could stop himself. "How can I help? What do you need?"

"I need you to take Cadence to your place tonight," she repeated, exasperated. "Feed him, entertain him—keep his mind off me. And take care of him."

"I will, but who will take care of you?" he asked.

"I will," she answered, rolling her eyes. "Don't worry about me, alright? I'll take a pill—"

"You already did," he interrupted pointedly, but was rudely ignored.

"—and go to sleep. I'll feel better in the morning."

Luka sighed, taking a moment to study her pale features. Everything in him told him not to leave, told him to stay, to take care of her, because that might as well be the reason why he was born into this world, but he knew differently. Marinette wouldn't allow him that.

"Are you sure?" he asked one last time, gazing deep into her eyes.

There was no hesitation from her part as she answered. "Yes."

"I heard you take good care of your mother," Luka remarked, later that day, as they sat on the porch, eating ice-cream. They had played football beforehand, and with his seemingly endless supply of energy, the little boy had nearly tired him out.

Although he looked surprised at his question, Cadence answered without hesitation. "Yeah," he said. "She takes care of me, too."

"Do you think…" He paused. For a moment, the thought of being on the verge of taking it too far occurred to him. But it was soon dismissed. "Would you like to have someone to take care of both of you?"

He frowned. "Someone like who?" he inquired curiously.

"Someone like me," Luka answered simply.

He seemed to contemplate the idea for a couple of seconds. "Then we'd have to take care of you, too."

Luka smiled at the innocence in his conclusion. "No." He shook his head. "I meant… taking that responsibility off your shoulders. Taking care of you… of both of you."

"Then who takes care of you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

He shrugged. "Myself."

Everything about him changed in that moment. The naiveté he had so openly displayed earlier disappeared in an instant, making place for an amount of wisdom that very few children possessed. A painfully familiar look in his eyes, Cadence watched him.

"You want my mother back, don't you?"

Luka smiled sadly. He was perceptive—like his mother. "Some things can't be recovered once you lose them, Cadence."

The boy blinked. "Why?" he asked. "It's not like she's dead."

There used to be a time when life was as simple as that, he realized, staring down at his feet as his child's words rang in his head over and over again. When did life become so complicated? And what if he made an effort to revert it back to what it once was?

Marinette had finished splashing cold water on her face when she heard the door to her bedroom opening. Exiting the bathroom, she leaned against the wooden structure of the door, furrowing her brows at the sight of Luka standing in the middle of the room, his eyes set on her figure.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice coming out softer and smaller than she had expected. She felt terribly queasy and dizzy, and she nearly fell over when she let go of the doorframe.

Thankfully, Luka was by her side in an instant, holding her forearms, effortlessly supporting her weight. "You're not feeling well," he answered. "I'm here to take care of you."

She rolled her eyes. "I can take care of myself. Where's Cadence?"

"In his room," he said.

She frowned. Usually, Cadence wanted to be there with her when she was sick, pushing her and pestering her and never once leaving her side until she was better. What could have Luka possibly said to him to make him change his mind and stay away this time?

"I told him I'd take care of you," he said, as though reading her mind.

"He trusts you," she whispered.

His eyes were soft when they met hers. "I guess he does," he murmured, suddenly vulnerable. "Is it wrong of him?"

A wave of dizziness washed over her before she could answer, and she would have fallen over had it not been for his hands stabilizing her yet again. She buried her face into his shirt, shaking her head languidly in a negative response.

"No," she whispered. "No, it isn't."

"Come on," he coaxed, stroking her hair once before wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leading her to the bed. "Sit," he commanded. "You need to drink something. I'll bring you some water, alright?"

She nodded, no longer having the strength to oppose his decisions.

"Did you take anything?" he asked.

"Aspirin," she answered.

"You'll need something stronger than that," he said, more to himself than to her, before standing up and walking out of the room, only to return a mere minute later with a tall glass of water and a while pill. Handing the two items to her, he waited patiently for her to finish drinking, crouched down in front of her.

"Go to sleep," he coaxed as he took the half empty glass from her hands and laid it on the nightstand.

Marinette complied, the idea of lying down sounding too appealing for her to be able to turn it down, and he pulled the covers over her small body before climbing in bed beside her.

By the time he had adjusted his position so that he could watch over her, she seemed to have already fallen asleep.

When Cadence went to check on his parents later that night, he found them both on the bed, fast asleep.

His father was lying atop of the covers, one arm slung over her waist, hand intertwined with hers on top of her stomach. His head was higher on the pillow than her own, causing dark locks of silky hair to scatter on his neck and shoulders. His hold, though, was so protective that the boy found himself grinning.

His mother, on the other hand, was bundled underneath the duvet. She lied with her back to him, yet there was something about her posture that screamed vulnerability. It was as though every inch of her body was actually leaning into him, desperate for his possessive embrace. She was safe, asleep in his presence; and for once, her guards were down.

It occurred to him then that his father was the first person around whom he had ever seen his mother so relaxed, and at the same time, so trusting.

* * *

 **A/N:** There ya go. Another one will be in a few minutes.


	17. 16

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

 **Author's Note:** Please don't forget to leave a review! Thanks!

* * *

**Desideratum**

**Chapter 16**

The following morning, Luka woke up with her snuggled in the crook of his arm.

She was sleeping peacefully under the warm covers, facing him; her head was resting on his shoulder, hair scattered over the white pillow beneath, and one of her hands was sprawled on his chest, lightly clutching the material of his white shirt.

Brushing a rebellious strand of hair behind her ear, he took the time to examine her perfect features, fingers trailing from her forehead, to her nose, her high cheekbones, and then her lips. Marinette was beautiful all the time, but there was something about her when she slept that he had always found oddly fascinating. Perhaps it was the way she seemed relieved of all the burdens she usually carried; perhaps it was the way he could ogle her all he wanted without having her complain. Or perhaps it was simply because he loved her so much.

That was a mystery he had never quite managed to solve, but that was alright, as long as he had the chance to think about it every so often.

Smiling, he brushed his hand over her cheek one last time, before grasping her hand and attempting to slide out from underneath her, with plans to prepare breakfast in his mind. Before he could move more than an inch, though, he heard a small whine coming from her. With a furrow between her brows, she snuggled closer to him, burying her face into the crook of his neck and exhaling constantly.

She used to do that, he remembered. She used to do that, because, even in her subconscious, she knew he would leave before she awoke.

How many times had he abandoned her like that? How many sunny mornings had she woken up to an empty bed? How many cold winter nights had she spent alone? He had coaxed her to open up and rely on someone, and when she finally managed, what did he do? Leave. Over and over again, disappoint her.

His heart clenched in his chest at the painful realization—and suddenly, he found it hard to breathe normally.

It was impossible for Marinette to know, as they sat at the same table that morning, why he seemed to be avoiding her gaze.

"He is...He's really talented," he remarked at a certain point during breakfast—the breakfast he had prepared before waking her up.

Marinette spared a glance in the direction of the living room, where Cadence had all his attention focused on a video game. "Musically?I know," she said, nonchalantly, as she took a bite from her food.

Luka smiled. "I know you know," he said. "What I was trying to find out… is if he knows, too."

She shrugged. "He knows that you're this famous rockstar. That there are reasons why people come up to you when you two go out or when you're not available for days. He was amazed when he found out about your occupation and I told him he can do more. Because—what was the point in telling him he was much more different than other children when I couldn't teach him everything I talked about?"

"But I can," he concluded. Then he paused, and thought again. "Can I?"

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Of course you can."

"I want to teach him his first instrument, let him choose and buy him one. I want to take him to my recording studio and show about my work."

She nodded in understanding, staring down at her plate. "Go ahead. I'm not going to stop you."

With a smile, he reached for her hand across the table, giving it a light squeeze. "Thank you," he said. "I'll take him today. You need to rest, anyway."

Nodding once more, she stood, taking her now empty plate with her to the sink. "Take him. I don't want him to hover around me like I'm dying."

Her intention was to wash the dishes, but Luka's hand wrapped around her wrist and pushed her away before she could even start. "I'll take care of that," he said. "You just rest."

Her expression softening, she hesitated, but then she gathered her courage and laid a hand over his forearm. "Thank you, Luka," she whispered, looking at him in the eye for what seemed to be the first time that day. "For everything."

Surprise showing clearly in his demeanor, he looked down at her hand, then at her.

He never answered. All he did was reach out and smooth a hand softly and reassuringly over her hair and cheek. But in that moment, she found it hard to remember the last time she had felt so safe, so trusting, so content with the world around her.

She wondered if she ever truly had.

* * *

When the two of them returned to the apartment later that evening, she was asleep on the couch. Luka smiled at the sight, brushing a hand over her head as he crouched down so that they were at eye-level.

As expected, she stirred at his touch, her eyelids fluttering open. She gazed up at him blearily, the world still in a post sleep haze.

"Hey," he greeted. From the corner of his eye, he saw Cadence clamber up on the armrest opposite from her. "Hey," she answered; her voice was rough from sleep. "What time is it?"

"Around eight," he said.

"Are you alright, Mom?" Cadence asked, peering over at her curiously.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," she answered, her voice instinctively gaining a more reassuring tone.

With a smile, Luka slipped his arms underneath her. "Come here," he said, and before she had a chance to complain, he swiftly picked her up, holding her bridal style.

She whined even as her arms came to wrap around his neck and her head buried itself into his shoulder. "I can get to bed by myself."

"I never doubted that," he whispered in her ear, carrying her across the room effortlessly. "I'll be back in a minute," he let Cadence know.

"How did it go?" she murmured when they reached her room, and he lowered her gently onto the mattress with a chuckle.

"He mastered the basic chords right away," he said.

She smiled, eyes closed from the moment her head touched the pillow.

"Go to sleep," he whispered, smoothing her hair back from her forehead and pulling the covers over her.

She made a small sound of agreement in the back of her throat, somewhere between consciousness and unconsciousness, before her breathing evened out, her chest rising and falling rhythmically.

His hand hovered above her hair as she shifted slightly in her sleep, and he hesitated. Leaning down, he pressed his lips with a feathery pressure to the temple, his eyes squeezing shut at the painful way his heart clenched in his chest. Resting his forehead against hers, he let out a shuddering breath.

His whispered words were swallowed by the darkness, unheard by her—unheard, perhaps, even by him.

" _I love you."_

* * *

 **A/N:** Oh, well, well, Luka. *grins* I'll try my hardest to update tomorrow.


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